


Digging Up Bones

by acrobatank (radminran)



Series: old ghosts, old scars [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Crime, Drama, F/F, Multi, Post-Canon, Romance, gay pining, supernatural happenings, undercover fiasco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2020-09-24 15:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20360809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radminran/pseuds/acrobatank
Summary: When conspiracy forces duke it out and use the entire Tokyo as a battleground, nobody with a sane mind would be able to just let things be. Especially not former Phantom Thieves who are supposed to be enjoying their lives in the peaceful world they've won together...





	1. hear my echo, hear my plea

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a Persona story, and no, I'm not tagging it, or any ships included in it. It's full of OCs, and ships of canon characters with OCs, and pretty much veer away from canon with a lot of deliberate creative changes made by me. 
> 
> Basically, it's just me playing in the sandbox that is the Persona Universe.
> 
> Don't say I didn't warn you.

**_Spring, 2017_ **

The sea air is especially cold and salty this particular night. It’s obviously a very bad idea to be out on a ship when the air is _this_ cold, while the waves are this rough, but alas—one must do what one was paid for. The man lets out a violent sneeze and pulls his windbreaker closer to his body, eyes squinting at the blackness of the water around him. It’s impossible to see anything in this kind of weather, especially at this time in the morning, but the man’s always been a stubborn one.

“You got anything?” He barks out at person standing beside him, a boy with pock-marked face barely out of his adolescence.

The boy jumps, having apparently dozed off on his feet, and immediately fire up the iPad-like gadget he’s been loosely holding onto. A brief tapping on the screen to input his credentials before the kid informs his boss that no, he’s seen nothing on the radar.

The gadget that the boy is holding is an advanced piece of Kirijo-tech that was scavenged from the remnants of their raided abandoned laboratories. Acquiring it was definitely no easy task, and the sailor has two of them in his possession; anyway, the point is that he _did _acquire it and after the troubles he went through to get it, he expected it to work its magic. The gadget’s basic function works like a radar where it tracks the presence of anything existing in the vicinity of his ship. The thing that makes this little thing very profitable, and highly sought after, lies in the detail that it completely disregards any advance cloaking tech that high-grade ships usually comes with along with being sensitive enough to pick up communication signals from any transportation in its vicinity; with how practically _nothing_ can escape its sensors, this gadget effectively violates any kind of privacy protection out in the sea.

Not completely legal, but let’s face it, when does the Kirijo ever work within legal limits during its peak of power?

This little lawbreaking device from the Kirijo’s heyday quickly becomes a very valuable component of the captain’s ship as it helps them with navigating past icebergs during sailing, and thus greatly saving him a lot of money for necessary repairs.

But right now, right when he needs the thing to work the most, the sailor is annoyed to find out that his trusted tech has not been able to track anything in the past hour. The tiny thing probably cost as much as a _house _and it chooses _this time_ to malfunction? Why he oughta—

The inner grumbling stops when his rather young assistant calls out to him in panic.

“Boss! Boss! It’s got something!”

The sailor slips twice as he makes his way towards his assistant in haste, none of his crew are going to call him out on that of course, and grabs the boy’s shoulder for leverage “What _the fu_—what are you getting?”

“I’m-I’m not sure, it’s not showing but—”

_“It’s not showing?!”_

“I have no idea why it’s doing this; the alarms are ringing but the radar is not showing anything!”

“_What?_ How can that be?” The sailor wrenches the tech away from his assistant and glares at the screen, beady eyes glaring at the pulsating circles on the electronic screen. His assistant’s words ring true, the radar’s not catching anything on screen even though the warning alarms on it, and on the ships, are blaring. No red dot in the midst of circles on the screen indicating hostile, nothing moving whatsoever on their immediate vicinity—just his lone ship in the void that is the sea at night “What the—”

“Uh... Boss?”

Before anything else could be said, everyone on deck is quickly struck dumb and silent when a growing darkness descends upon them. Shadows fall like heavy curtains that rapidly obscures the moonlight, harshly bathing everything in complete darkness for a few heart-stopping seconds. Along with the darkness comes a humongous wave of the water, rising up from the cold sea before crashing down upon the surface of the ship and sending everyone off of their feet. Multiple voices yelling in fear as they desperately grab onto anything close to stop them from tumbling towards the freezing water.

It takes a while for everyone to realize that no, it wasn’t a whale that just broke the surface of the water and sending a tsunami over the surface of their container ship; it was something else entirely that was just as big.

Or maybe even _bigger._

The captain couldn’t find it in himself to explain what he’s seeing right now. Whatever he’s witnessing is definitely something that only science fiction or fantasy movies can cook up. He has a feeling that those shows his son watches, the anime, have this kind of made up thing there because never in his life had he seen _anything_ like this before.

An enormous underwater transportation that blends into its surrounding, neither showing shape nor color, easily breaks the surface of the water as it ascends from the depth of darkness. The thing moves as if it isn’t an unholy being of nature, an alien of its environment. The size is enormous—about three times bigger than the container ship the captain commandeers. The captain was not joking when he mistook it for a whale, it’s the closest comparison the man could think of in the face of this monstrosity.

All thoughts halts to a stop when the top hatch of the transportation hisses open, and the captain could feel his, and his crew’s jaws, drop collectively as several people made their appearances. A few figures are lifted up through the hatch head-first into the chilly night air right before everyone’s eyes.

A blonde-haired man with a cocky smile in all black with half a dozen armed mercenaries standing behind him greets the captain’s sight and immediately his blood runs cold.

Suddenly, everything about this cargo trade sinks in.

The lack of information and the money wired to him through an unknown channel—_many _unknown channel—the ungodly amount of money that he was given just for a simple cargo trade—

God, he was so naive.

There is definitely _nothing_ simple about this.

“_Hey Cap’n!_” The blonde man yells out through in a heavily accented Japanese with the old-fashioned megaphone in his hand _“I think you’ve got something that belongs to us!” _

The captain couldn’t see the expression on the foreigner’s face, but he could definitely hear the smugness in his tone.

What has he gotten his crew into?

**_______________**

** _Early Summer, 2018_ **

Morgana’s head perks up when he hears the bell of the office door ring. The blue-eyed cat stretches tightly, letting out satisfied purrs at the sound of his joints cracking, before bounding towards the boy with the curly hair.

Said person is just finishing up his conversation with a stern-faced realtor; face stretched into a thin smile before stepping out of the office. That face alone gives away enough information for the cat to know what transpired in the past hour.

“No good?” Morgana pipes up when he’s close enough to his companion.

“No,” Ren confirms with a sigh. Without missing a beat, the boy bends down to pick Morgana up and place him on his shoulders as if the cat is a regular accessory that belongs there “They said I’m too young to rent my own place.”

“You’re almost 20, isn’t that the age where you can do whatever you want?”

“If you mean legal age, Morgana, then yes, you’re right.”

“Then why’d they say no?”

Ren has a sinking feeling why _exactly _why they said no, and it definitely isn’t about his age “I don’t know. Too young I guess…maybe they thought I wouldn’t have enough money as a deposit. They want enough for a half-year rent.”

Morgana’s eyes are sharp and pointed as they crossed the busy Shibuya street and Ren knew from that alone that he didn’t lie well enough to be able to turn Morgana away from the truth. They know each other much too well for him to be able to bluff Morgana with something like that.

“It’s because of your records, isn’t it?” the black cat hisses out his deduction, disgust clear in his voice “I can’t believe it, that was the _fourth_ place we’ve been to that used that reason to turn you down! What is their problem? You’ve got your record purged! They can’t use it against you forever!”

Morgana has a point; they can’t use Ren’s previous juvenile record against him forever. Just another two years, at the most, until he turns 20 and start anew as a legal adult. But until then, Ren would have to grit his teeth and bite his tongue whenever people treat him like he’s diseased and prevents him from doing normal things like trying to find his own place to live.

This little thing quickly becomes a big problem that’s eating Ren out from the inside, no matter how nonchalant he tries to be on the surface. Even though Morgana tries his best to calm Ren down, the boy feels his anxiety growing from the fear of being homeless just when he’s going to start his first year at University.

How quickly have things progress to this point?

Well, the stress basically started a few months back, during the last few months of 2017, when the university entrance exam announcement was released.

Amamiya Ren, who returned to his hometown in Kyoto in order to finish high school, had found out of his acceptance into the University of Tokyo as a Political Science student. It was probably one of the happiest, proudest, moment and achievement of his life. The boy would have thought that he was dreaming if it wasn’t for his name on the University of Tokyo website’s list of new students.

This was the light at the end of the tunnel for him. After one year of keeping his head down and holding back his yearning for his friends, Ren could finally return to Tokyo and be with the people that he cares about again.

It’s not that he hates his hometown or anything like that; he’s actually fond of the place. As much as Tokyo was nice to live in, Ren rather prefers the rural areas where he grew up in. But, coming back to Kyoto after everything that had happened was…frankly, weird.

He felt so disconnected from everything around him.

From the things that used to be part of his life _before_.

The people he had thought of as friends before have become strangers in light of his scandal. Neighbors that used to greet him on his way to school now cower in his presence and scuttles away as if he was a ferocious tiger on a hunt. Truthfully, it was no different to the treatment he received in Tokyo early in the days of his arrival, but the appearance of Ryuji and the others—the Phantom Thieves’ emergence—makes the glaring difference between the treatments in the two places very obvious.

Here, in this dinky little town, the Phantom Thieves means nothing.

No one cares that he used to be known as Joker, the leader of the famous thieves who stole hearts from corrupt adults.

In this place, he’s just the boy with the over-talkative cat.

Not that Ren cares much, to be honest. He’s got his sights stubbornly set on Tokyo, and he’s never looking back.

Morgana, as much as he appreciated the silence of Ren’s hometown compared to the hustle and bustle in Tokyo, ultimately found it creepy because of how its inhabitants treats Ren. Rumors and gossips spread fast in small towns and scandals don’t get forgotten—they get brought up during every local gathering in a subtle almost passive-aggressive ways.

There’s no way that Ren’s scandal would be quickly forgotten in a small place like that. It matters not that the incident happened years by that point.

And so, when the news of his acceptance to University of Tokyo came out, Ren immediately packed for Tokyo with the mind of someone going on a permanent leave. He didn’t think of his hometown as home anymore after everything that had happened in his life. He’s probably never coming back, not in the immediate future at least.

Home was where the people who care about him are, and for him this is definitely Tokyo.

Before the move however, he had to inform his parents first. And it was another problem entirely.

Ren’s relationship with his parents post-scandal was rather…complicated, to put it nicely. It was already complicated pre-scandal, but the scandal seemed to be the tipping point. His father has always been emotionally distant to him; a no-nonsense person who puts the importance of studying over everything else and one who leads the family with a stern touch. Ren’s mother was mellower, a quiet woman who adores her one and only child. Even though she believed Ren and was on his side when the scandal dropped, she could do naught against his father’s decision to exile him to Tokyo when the chips were down.

Exiling Ren was his father’s way of ‘fixing’ a problem and it sort of worked as when Ren returned the rumor had stopped, mostly at least—not even the stern man can get rid of a rumor entirely.

Just because Ren understood why his father did it doesn’t mean that he’d stop being bitter for being treated like that. The relationship between him and his father had cooled to a degree that they don’t talk anymore. Ren’s relationship with his mother had similarly cooled, but she tried her best to get back into his good graces and Ren had always had a soft spot for his soft mother.

It really wasn’t her fault that his father was, in Morgana’s words, a _shithead_.

And so, he thawed, even if it was just for the sake of his mother. Ren gritted his teeth and did all he could to make his stay back in his old town bearable until the day comes when he could leave it for good.

There was nothing in that town left for him anyway. Not anymore.

The night he told his parents about his acceptance, Ren received differing reactions.

There was a flash of pride in his father’s eyes—so brief that Ren thought he’d been imagining before it disappeared back into stormy greys.

His mother had sobbed, before congratulating him whole heartedly with tears running down her face.

Ren’s father informed him that he would be paying for his tuition as long as he keeps his grades up, and as much as Ren wanted to say no to his money he acquiesced. As much as he’s going to get paid from all the part time jobs, they would never be enough for a full year’s tuition in a place like the University of Tokyo.

When asked about accommodation, Ren found himself faltering. He had been planning to stay with the Sakura’s again, as Futaba have been yelling through the phone at him about how he’s very welcome to stay with them when he’s in Tokyo and he doesn’t have to stay in the attic anymore. But now that he thought more about it, Ren doesn’t think that It’s wise to be freeloading in his guardian’s house for the remaining years of his study.

In the end they strike a deal where Ren’s father would pay for his tuition full time and Ren would take care of the accommodation himself by using the money that he from his part time jobs. This gives Ren some agency and levity, as he hates it if he has to be dependent on his father’s money the entire time he would be in Tokyo.

The less strings his father has on him, the better.

Morgana had wondered about the animosity towards his father then, but Ren didn’t say anything. It’s not something that he likes to talk about, and this topic is something that he doesn’t particularly care to even mention from how raw it feels still.

When Ren’s mother asked if he would visit them monthly, Ren couldn’t answer. He’d rather not, if he was to be honest, but the hopeful eyes of his mother made him hold back from the truth. He could only tell her that _he would try_, but he didn’t want to promise her anything.

The look in his mother’s face told him that she knew what he meant with that vague answer.

Before they knew it, weeks passed, and Ren was bidding them goodbye in the station where his train would be taking him to the capital. It was a tearful parting on his mother’s end, but Ren was anything but.

He was free for the first time in a year in the train that was bound straight for home. Morgana was purring during the entire ride from how infectious his happiness was, but Ren knew that his partner would deny if he’d mention it.

Fast forward several weeks later and Ren finds himself on a journey to find housing for school. Yongenjaya is quite some distance away from his campus, so there’s this little trouble of commute. Seeing that he has four early morning classes in the week, an hour commute in the morning rush in Tokyo is going to be a nightmare. Even though Sojiro tells him that he won’t mind at all it if Ren stays with him and Futaba for the remaining years of his studies, Ren still feels bad on taking him up on his offer.

See, Sojiro won’t accept payments even as rent after everything they’d gone through together, so it’s hard for Ren to not feel like he’s taking advantage of Sojiro’s generosity by freeloading again. He knows that Sojiro and Futaba thinks of him as a part of their little family, but there are just some things that he’s rather awkward about even with family.

And so, it’s been an interesting few days since housing hunt begins, and as Morgana reminds them earlier, Ren’s been turned down _four times_ for the same reason: his purged-but-not-yet-gone juvenile records. Saying that the record’s screwing with his livelihood isn’t exactly exaggerating now.

He’s informed Makoto about this, and the girl immediately suggested on calling her sister for a recommendation to help him secure housing. A splendid idea that would lead to immediate result no doubt, Ren had to turn her down.

Sae had been the one who handled the complicated bureaucracy of getting him out of juvie. That, and the matter of saving his life that night in November, means that the boy owed Sae for so much already; Ren couldn’t possibly add _this_ to his tab. Not saying it lightly, but the woman had been an absolute angel with handling everything following his release from juvie. Ren has a feeling that if it were somebody else, it would have taken more than 3 months to get him out of the system.

Sae’s become one of his trusted comrades and a solid support system ever since they work together. She’s definitely one of several adult figures that he trusts who won’t violate the power she’s been given and oppress the powerless. The woman has been thriving in her new job as a Defense Attorney, last he heard from Makoto. It was part of the reason why he doesn’t want to bother her with this—Ren doesn’t want Sae to have anything from her old job bothering her now that she’s happily turned over a new leaf.

But after getting turned down for so many times, Ren is starting to re-think about taking up Makoto’s offer. He’s getting pretty tired of having his records thrown at his face as a reason for people refusing to let him find somewhere to stay.

“Hey,” Morgana’s paw nudging against his arm breaks Ren from his thoughts as the two lounges on the bench under the shade in Ueno park. It feels too hot to be walking around and they’re there to rest and enjoy some shade.

Morgana’s blue eyes are piercing from his snug place inside Ren’s bag, shining with obvious curiosity “can I ask you something?”

Ren raises his brows curiously at the serious tone “Sure. What’s up?”

“Is there another reason why you chose Tokyo as your only destination for university? Besides the fact that the others are here, I mean.” when he got nothing but a blank look from the boy, Morgana struggles to elaborate “I heard something when your parents were talking—_I wasn’t eavesdropping!_—your dad was saying about how you’ve been…uh, obsessed, with Tokyo for a while.”

“Huh.” Ren had a feeling that his parents talked about him quite a few times behind his back but he didn’t know that Morgana’d been eavesdropping on them “And then? What’d mom say?”

The cat looks away guiltily “She said that Tokyo’s been good for you in many ways.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah…” the cat stares at him, waiting for an explanation on what the heck were Ren’s parents talking about “so…what’s with Tokyo?”

“I like anime.” Ren deadpans and it was so convincing that Morgana finds himself nodding along before realizing that _no, _that’s definitely not the truth! He swipes at Ren who avoids his paw easily with a small laugh.

Honestly! As if Morgana hadn’t known everything about the boy after so long together.

The boy lets out another hum as one of his hand reaches out to scratch the back of Morgana’s head. It’s a while until Ren finds his words, voice quiet in the afternoon noises of the park.

“I have family here.” Ren’s voice is loud enough for Morgana to hear but no one else “Blood-related, and yet very unlike my parents in so many ways.”

Morgana’s ears flick curiously at this statement. Ren’s never talked of any family member he has in Tokyo, and he’s definitely an only child.

“Why not stay with them, then? We don’t have to walk around in the heat of the summer if you’ve already got somewhere to stay—”

“Because she’s dead.”

The statement strikes like thunder against a clear sky. Morgana’s struck silent, jaw hanging as he stares up at his partner in horror.

How should he respond to this?

He could always crack a snide remark about how all dead people are still with them, but he immediately abandons the thought when he saw the look on Ren’s face. The last time he’d seen the boy look this distraught was when he witnessed that girl, Shiho, jumped off the building of his High School.

“Ren, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” Ren’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but his scritches softened as if comforting Morgana “it’s been a long time anyway.”

But it doesn’t mean that it’s stopped hurting.

Morgana have always admired Ren for his many traits, positive and negative both, because they’re what makes the boy human. He wants to be a human like Ren; not perfect, not the ultimate pinnacle of humankind—but just enough, _good_ enough.

_Kind_ enough.

Ren is good to him, so he wants to be good to him back in return.

Morgana jumps out of the bag and curls into Ren’s hand, purring and offering comfort “Who’s she? Was she close to you?” if he couldn’t take back the sting of his insensitive prodding, maybe he could soothe away the pain some other way.

The boy looks at him in amusement, as if saying that he knows what the cat’s trying to do, but Ren humors him anyway “She was my cousin, from my mom’s side. Ten years older and the only cousin I’m close to.”

“She nice?”

Ren chuckles fondly “Far from it. She was _terrifying_.”

“_What?”_

“She rarely smiles and her face was always stuck in this…look that makes you feel like you’re a worm. She really didn’t like people in general, and had a very sharp tongue that always got her in trouble. She couldn’t cook and once nearly set the house on fire because she had it in her mind to cook a full course meal even though she knew _nothing _about cooking. She also got into a fight with the neighborhood bike gang this one time and made them cry _so_ hard the police were reluctant to find who beat them up in fear that they’d gone against the yakuza.”

Morgana has no idea how to handle this slew of information, so he just stares at Ren’s wide smile “Uh…she sounds like an interesting person.”

“Right?” Ren’s smile is _blinding_. It’s quite clear that he worships this cousin of his.

“Was she always so…rough?”

The smile dims a little, though it doesn’t vanish entirely “No, not by a long shot. She’s just blunt and she had difficulty with letting things go…but she’s definitely the opposite of that.

‘Nee-san was unfriendly to people because that was how people in general treat her, she was just returning the favor. She rarely smiles because she didn’t believe in wasting her energy being nice to people who were only keeping up a façade for the sake of propriety. She couldn’t cook because she put too much time trying to learn how to bake just because Grandpa and I love sweet things and she loved spoiling us. And the reason for her fighting the bike-gang?” the boy gives a fond laugh at this, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

“The gang kept revving up their bikes up and down the street for a week straight during a time when I caught a particularly bad case of influenza. She beat them up because telling them to shut up wasn’t enough to get them to stop. Mom nearly blew her top when she found out what happened, but Grandpa found it funny. Thank god no one found out that it was her who beat them up, or she would have been dragged straight to jail.”

Fond nostalgia permeates the space between them so thickly that Morgana couldn’t help but gets swept along in the memories. He imagines a little Ren Hero-Worshipping his older cousin and follows her like an imprinted baby duckling and grins at the image. Morgana could see little bits of his cousin left in Ren; something that the boy might not be aware of himself.

“So, say, if she was in the vicinity of a woman, being harassed by a drunk man in the middle of the night…you think she would confront him too? And defend the woman even though it would cost her freedom?”

The question takes Ren aback, but he recovers quickly. The fond smile stays on his face as the boy confidently gives a nod and confirms Morgana’s thoughts.

“She would do it, no hesitation.”

The cat grins so widely that his sharp teeth gleams in the afternoon light “Then you guys really are related. She sounds awesome, Ren.”

Ren’s chuckles are the confirmation that the cat needs. It’s been a while since Morgana sees the boy this high-spirited, a complete 180 to the melancholic mood after getting kicked out of the Realtor’s office. Morgana couldn’t help but wonder why he’d never heard of this cousin until now, when she seems to have made such an impact in Ren’s life.

“So…what happened to her? Why haven’t I heard anything about her?” the cat asks carefully, mind going back to the year he spent with Ren in the boy’s hometown and not remembering anything that might clue him in to the presence of this mysterious cousin of Ren’s. There was no photograph and no shrine for the woman that was said to have passed on a while ago. For someone who means a lot to Ren, Morgana had expected Ren’s family to have a shrine for her, just like how Futaba and Sojiro keeps a shrine for Futaba’s mom in their house.

Morgana watches in horror when Ren’s face immediately darkens.

Shit, did he say something wrong again?

“Well,” Ren rubs the back of his neck distractedly as he looks around, eyes distant as his mind strays back to the past “she went to the Military Academy when our Grandpa died.”

Oh? “She lived with your Grandpa?” Now that Morgana thinks of it, there was no mention at all about Ren’s grandparents either during their stay back at Ren’s hometown. What is it with Ren’s parents and their lack of acknowledgement of the extended family members?

“Yes. Her parents passed away when she was little, and our Grandpa took her in. There was…family drama between our families, so I didn’t get to meet her until I was like 3 or 4.”

There you go, the family drama. Morgana had seen enough daytime soaps when he lived in Ren’s house. There was nothing else to do but watch the stupidly dramatic soaps while waiting for the boy to come back from school. Boredom had never felt so stifling.

“Let me guess, your old man didn’t like her?” He didn’t seem to like anybody.

Ren laughs out loud “Wow, Morgana, seems like you know my dad well enough by now. Did he bribe you with treats?”

Morgana rolls his eyes at this “You wish. So? What did your old man do?”

His attempt at changing the topic unsuccessful, Ren adopts a solemn smile before he continues “Well, he didn’t do anything dramatic, but he made sure to distance himself, along with mom and I, from Grandpa and her. I made my way to them eventually thanks to mom, so I got to know her and Grandpa. When Grandpa died, there was a bit of a problem with guardianship, as she was underage when he passed, and needed to have a guardian. As her own family members left, naturally, the guardianship went to my mother. But—”

Ren could remember it like yesterday, the argument that her parents had over that guardianship. His grandfather’s funeral wasn’t even over and people were already fighting over things. His mom wanted to take his cousin in, as she was the only niece that Ren’s mother had left from her side of the family, but his father…Ren’s father was _adamant_ that his cousin not step one foot in their house. They didn’t need extra baggage weighing them down. Ren was devastated when he heard that and he lashed out.

The argument that they had then was when he lost respect for his father, and the beginning of the ongoing almost-antagonistic resentment Ren had towards him.

“—let’s just say that my father didn’t want an extra mouth to feed. So, she was stuck with foster care, and you know how the system is from looking at Futaba and Akechi.” The foster care system had left Futaba with PTSD and Akechi was driven insane from it. It’s made clear that the Japanese foster system has many flaws, and Ren only recently understood why his cousin made her drastic choice of school just to avoid getting thrown into the system.

Morgana seems to agree when Ren watches his little brows furrowing together in displeasure, undoubtedly thinking the same thing as him.

“So yes, Grandpa died and she signed up for Military Academy. I was 8, and I was devastated. She was probably the only person who supported me back then. You’ve seen how dad is, and mom, as much as I love her, could be a real pushover. My cousin was my rock, the person I go to when I needed help and advice, but oh man she gave a lot of dumb advices—”_ listen Ren, if you want to learn how to swim really quickly, you gotta jump into a pool and like, struggle to swim. Desperation leads to quick learning _“—but she was always there, unfailingly.”

When his parents were absent emotionally, his cousin was there. She was his personal cheerleader, a scary one no doubt, always taking care of him in ways that other people may look down upon but Ren greatly appreciated.

The boy takes a deep shaky breath as his story reaches the end.

His least favorite part.

“Nee-san was stubbornly ambitious, so it wasn’t a surprise when she wrote to me about how she’s assigned to field work after finishing the academy early. And that was basically our relationship since, we wrote to each other by mail. She wasn’t allowed a cellphone during her assignments, but she gave me the phone number to her military barrack in case I needed to talk to her. But I never used it. I didn’t want to bother her.” Ren adds with a bitter smile. His cousin was off doing awesome things and he didn’t want to be the little kid who nagged her for attention.

How he regrets that decision until this day. He should have called that number when he had the chance.

“A few years ago, she wrote to me and told me that she had to go on an overseas assignment, so she wouldn’t be able to keep in touch as often. It was fine, because her mail usually comes with large gaps between them, and I didn’t think it was something to be concerned about. But it turned out to be different this time, because everything just—stops. No mails, no phone calls. No random souvenirs sent to me from the places she’d been to.” Ren still have the weird gifts his cousin sent him, and they’re all placed nicely in a box that he brings with him every time he moves, even during his one-year exile to Tokyo. He’s never told anyone else about it though, it’s personal…and Ren didn’t trust anyone enough with this precious piece of his past back then.

Morgana at this point have been listening so intently that he’s move himself to drape across Ren’s lap in a sprawl, tail swishing lazily behind him. The atmosphere turns heavy quickly and he dreads the last part of this story. With Ren’s cousin dead, this story isn’t going anywhere near a good end.

“Anyway, about half a year after her last letter a soldier in uniform came to our house. He came with the official document that informed us that Nee-san was killed in action during an assignment in Cuba, fighting terrorists. They buried her here, in Tokyo, I heard. I haven’t visited, so I’m not really sure where exactly she is buried. She was the reason I came to Tokyo originally…Dad didn’t want me around when the scandal happened, so Tokyo was the only place I have left to go to.

‘Because she was here.”

Part of Ren knows that he should look up her grave and visit at some point, because it’s stupid— he had fought _so hard_ back then just so that he could choose Tokyo as his destination when his father tossed him out of the house, just so he could stay close to her. And yet Ren never made the time to actually _do _the one thing he promised himself to do ever since he was informed of her death.

Ren knows that his cousin doesn’t mind waiting, but she’d call him out for it if she’s alive.

_‘I’m here and you’re here and you won’t visit me? That’s real cold, Ren.’_

What he wouldn’t do to have her around again.

A soft sensation on his hand jerks Ren out of his reminiscing and he glance quickly at his lap to see Morgana practically nuzzling him in comfort. He must have sensed the distress that comes with recalling this part of the story and consciously succumbs to his feline nature for once to comfort him.

“I’m okay.” Ren murmurs, nudging Morgana softly with his knuckle “it’s been years now.”

The cat gives a low purr and nuzzles the knuckle before saying quietly, but firmly “She’d be proud of you if she was here, I’m sure of it.”

Ren had grown up to be a man that was nothing like his father; a defender of the weak and someone who fights for justice in a society so corrupt that it needed supernatural intervention. It was not something just anyone could do, and Morgana is very proud of him for it. From what he’d heard of Ren’s cousin, Morgana could confidently say that she would be proud of the man Ren have become too, had she still been alive.

That seed of justice that she had shown during her youth, it was clear that Ren had picked up on it and let it bloom in him along the years.

Morgana is glad that Ren had someone before he found Morgana and the others. This boy deserves a lot more than he’s been given, and Morgana would fight anyone trying to say otherwise.

Also, it’s time to change the subject. There’s no good in wallowing too much in the past, and now that his curiosity’s been sated, Morgana’s good with moving on.

“Turned out your mom was right, then. Tokyo’s been good to you in _so_ many ways. Now, if only it’s being good to you by letting you get some place to live too. You still have Makoto’s sister’s number? Maybe we should call her in for backup, I’m getting fed up with the realty people.”

Ren couldn’t help his laugh at Morgana’s insistence; the cat has _had it_ with the realtors after they threw them out with the same bullshit reason and almost came close to scratching the third realtor’s nose off for calling Ren a _‘convict’_ right to his face.

“They’re called _‘realtor’_, Morgana, but you know what? You’re right. Let’s try again a few more times though, before we call Sae-san for help.”

“You’re so stubborn, Ren! I’m starting to think you’re a masochist!”

“Pot calling kettle black, much?”

Morgana hisses in affront, and that only makes the boy laugh harder. The two bickers playfully under the afternoon sun, ignoring the people around them, and only focusing on each other. It’s a comfortable and warm summer afternoon after all, what’s there to worry about besides the stress of looking for an apartment? It’s Tokyo in the end, the sprawling metropolitan and one of the richest cities in the world. It’s always hard to get a place to live here, so it’s nothing new.

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to those two, a pair of eyes have been focused on them for the last forty-five minutes. Basically, ever since they arrived at the park and sat down on the bench, having a one-sided conversation from an outsider’s view.

The pair of eyes are covered by reflective aviators as the owner lounges back on their own bench, legs sprawling out and arms hanging over the back of the bench carelessly like they own the place, effectively blocking people’s attempt of sharing the bench with their body language.

Who knows what this person is thinking as they watches over the boy with the over-talkative cat, but whatever’s in their head pulls a small smile on the stern face.

A sudden small subtle beep pierced the air and the person lifts up a finger to tap at the hidden communicator in their ear.

“Obsidian to Control,” they murmur quietly, eyes never leaving the two figures playing around on the bench quite a way from them “I think I may have found our target…”

_______________

The room is pitch dark save for the glowing light from the phone.

The figure is shivering violently underneath his blanket; eyes red and white and fearful, flitting repeatedly to his window and back to the phone in his shaking hands.

He needs help.

But there’s nobody that he could trust.

Should he call him?

The only person that he fully trusts with his life.

The dependable person who saved the world.

But what if he’s…compromised?

The boy lets out a pitiful moan and sobbed, tears running down his face as he presses his phone against his temple.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He’s so scared.

He doesn’t have a lot of time left.

_They’re coming for him._

Sobbing, the boy types as fast as he could. In code, like how he’d learned how to during the Phantom Thief case, just in case for emergencies like this.

Please, God, let a miracle happen once again.

_Please…_

_Save him._


	2. who likes unwanted guests?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren meets an unwanted foe, and makes a friend.

** _ Early Summer 2018 _ **

The forensics’ camera lights go off repeatedly as they move carefully around the crime scene, taking photos of the evidences spread all over the room like it was second nature. The lightbulbs in their camera are professionally set to not contaminate anything that’s light-sensitive in the room, so the Detective knew that he could trust them to keep everything the same way as it was found and in the same condition.

Not that he doesn’t trust the forensics, it’s just the little fact that he doesn’t quite understand how cameras work. All he knows about cameras is basically how to press the shutter button and just…let the thing work its magic.

The man lets out a sigh and takes out his handkerchief to wipe his sweaty forehead. They turned off the air-conditioning in this room to avoid contaminating the blood any further—but it’s _summer_, so it’s getting really unbearable in here. They couldn’t even open the glass doors in the first floor of the house because the neighbors are nosy, and they do not need gossiping hens running around the place panicking about _mass murder._

Everything’s complicated enough without them thrown into the mix.

A slight racket is heard from outside the house and the Detective leans back in his squeaky chair to squint through the glass windows. Not seeing anything, he beckons one of the uniformed officers standing by the door closer and nods his head at the crowd gathering outside.

“What’s going on?”

The uniformed officer wipes his temple with the lower part of his white glove before answering “Uh, one of the big shots from MPD is here. They’re talking about taking over the case.”

_“What?!”_

When the glass doors slid open once more, the Detective jumps to his feet immediately.

He’s now sweating for an entirely different reason.

Several people in suits enters the house, and he might even recognize some of them but the man is entirely distracted from the familiar faces because of the stranger in the bright blue three-piece suit that seemed to be taking point during this visit. Who let this guy wear this kind of clothes to a crime scene?!

“Detective Morozuki,” the man in the bright suit gives him a nod in greeting and the Detective struggles with himself to not snarl in response “My name is Irie from Homicide. Can I get an introduction to the case?”

It takes Morozuki a while to compose himself (_what kind of greeting was that nod?)_ and realizs that there’s a harried-looking uniformed officer just a few steps behind Irie holding a clipboard that he belatedly realizes belongs to his department.

Wait, is that the case notes he’s holding? Who gave him the—

“Detective Morozuki?” Irie called with raised brows, jerking his head towards the area where forensics are still hovering about, throwing them unsure glances.

Scowling and grumbling under his breath about cheeky officers, Morozuki forced himself into an explanation “Male, 21, he’s a drug dealer belonging to the Yamaguchi-gumi that we’ve been trying to locate for months. Operated around Shibuya and targeting high school kids because he could pass off as one. Blends in with the crowd and made it hard for us to bag him.”

Irie walks closer to the body and one of the suits with him waves away the forensics standing around the body. Morozuki is a bit miffed seeing another Detective bossing his people around, hot-shot or not, but he knows he have to hold himself back because hot-shots have good connections to the top and if he mess up here, this might be the last case he would be handling.

Morozuki watches quietly as Irie walks around the scene, paying attention to every blood spatter and asking the forensics questions as if he’s trying to keep himself updated to what Morozuki’s team been doing in the past three hours. He doubts that the obnoxious hot-shot could get anything about the case though, this isn’t Homicide’s jurisdiction. Only Morozuki and his people knows the _real _details behind this murder and he ain’t sharing.

“Well, I’ve got to say you did a great job, Detective,” Irie calls out from his position, squatting down by the body lying on the floor and poking at one of the body’s hands with the end of his pen “your forensics saved a great list of evidences from what we have here. No contamination at all.”

Morozuki could barely held in his pride for his team at the praise.

“It’ll make the transition much easier between us. I’ll be taking over from here, so thanks for all the great work!”

“WHAT!” the older detective chokes on his spit in his surprise. He visibly has to stop himself from stomping towards the insolent brat and teach him lessons about seniority “Wait a minute, what is _that_ supposed to mean? What do _you,_ homicide brats, doing in my area anyway? This is an Organized Crime case! We’ve been after this guy for _months. _You’re not taking over anything! You hear that, _Detective_?!” he’s practically heaving by the end of the rant, and the entire room is staring at him with a mix of expressions.

Irie didn’t even turn his way, that _insolent_—

“Actually,” one of the suits that arrived with Irie comes forward and Morozuki realizes that he’s the one who was bossing his forensics earlier “This is an order coming from the Director of the SIU himself. Detective Irie would be taking over the case from here on out. The official transfer document will arrive in your department in half an hour.”

“But this is an _Organized Crime_ case! Why would Homicide—”

“Ah, that’s my mistake.” Irie stands up and effectively becomes the center of attention as he pointedly walks around the body to come closer to Morozuki, not appearing at all bothered by the rising tension in the house “I’m not from _Homicide _Homicide. I’m actually from _Special Homicide_, which I’m sure you know about with all the media reporting on it for about hm…what, half a year now?”

The brunette man who is standing about half a foot taller than Morozuki smiles in that infuriating way that feels like he’s goading him for a fight, but Morozuki could see his people from the corner of his eye waving at him, telling him to simmer down.

Not even his fury could make Morozuki forget of the weird new department the MPD erected a while ago. He thought that it was unnecessary, since they already have a regular Homicide case full of stuck-up detectives that did not know how to work together with the other departments. But then all these freak murder cases started popping up all over the place, and Homicide was utterly overwhelmed from the sheer numbers and the overall abnormality of the cases that it almost started a mass panic in Tokyo a while back.

Morozuki remember some big name from the Prosecutor’s office was chosen to get a task force together just to take care of these freak murders and then there here they are. _Special Homicide _became the hottest piece of news in town. None of rest of the departments knows exactly _how_ that department functions, but things have gotten significantly calmer ever since they took over the reigns over the freak murder cases.

There is still mass paranoia left over here and there, but at least this time the people know that MPD have put together a special team just for the sake of solving these mysteries.

“Also, my rank is _Assistant Inspector_, Detective.” Irie adds with a cheeky grin, effectively pouring oil into the flame that is Morozuki’s fury “And don’t you forget it.”

He wants nothing more than to sock this bastard in the jaw for bossing his people around and stealing his case, but there’s nothing Morozuki could do but clench his fists and watch furiously as the Special Homicide team’s forensics effectively moves in and replaces his people. He could never get used of interferences like this; he’d be having some words with his superiors when he gets back to the station.

He won’t be getting out of this case without some info, that’s for sure.

“Okay, _Assistant Inspector,_” Morozuki spits out as he follows the man in the bright suit to the corner of the room “you get my case now, congratulations. Can I just know why my guy here gets involved with one of your cases? This is just another one of those regular gang murders. Yamaguchi-gumi have a lot of enemies, ain’t rare to see one of their guys chopped up to pieces.”

Irie turns to him with a deadpan look on his face and points his pen towards the ceiling “Your guy here was chopped to 8 pieces, and his head was sliced into 3 parts, two of which are splattered to the ceiling and stayed there for hours in an impressive feat of victory against gravity that would make Sir Isaac Newton proud. You know as well as I do that there’s no katana that’s capable of doing that, Detective.”

“S-so what, just because of that you Special Homicide kids think it’s one of your cases?”

“Well, no, because if it’s just _that _we’d be giving this to our less impressive sibling with the inferiority complex, the regular Homicide people.” Irie then leans over and drop his voice, as if not wanting the other people in the room to hear him “This stays between you and me, Morozuki. But the reason why we’re called here is because your forensics couldn’t find any match for a murder weapon in this murder case. But _my_ forensics was able to find a match after a brief consult with your people. And you know what the murder weapon, or _weapons_, are?”

Morozuki’s curiosity is piqued much to his annoyance “What?”

_“Claws.”_ Irie hisses with a dark look in his eyes “Or something that resembles animal claws. You’d be wondering if I’m on drugs after I say that I’m sure, which I am not by the way, but see, here’s the kicker— this _exact _same murder weapon has actually been identified in the past four cases I’ve been handling. And it’s always the same thing. And the weird thing was that these are actually _not_ animal claws. Nothing matches these claws, especially the sharpness. Every zoologist that we’ve asked were similarly bewildered and swears they’ve not encountered anything like these claws in modern-age animals. Why? Because these things cut through concrete like butter, something that…modern animals are not able to do.”

A dawning horror slowly settles over Morozuki’s countenance as his eyes flits through the room, landing on every piece of the chopped-up body, and the blood spatters that decorates the crime scene. He knew that there is something funny about this murder scene from the first time he laid eyes on it, but his pride didn’t want him to look away and give this case to someone else. He’d seen gruesome murders before, turf wars can get very barbaric sometimes, but this…this murder takes the cake.

He couldn’t believe that those deep gashes on the walls are _claw marks._

“So, so what, you think the killers are, _monsters _or something?” the laugh that came out of Morozuki is shaky with disbelief. The laughter quickly dies off when Irie doesn’t laugh along with him, face as serious as his jolly appearance could let him “Shit. You’re pulling my legs, Irie, tell me you’re pulling my legs.”

The younger detective shakes his head “We can’t afford to rule anything out at this point. With the rate the murders have been going, we’re expecting a mass murder in the following months if we don’t find the perpetrators soon enough. So, it’s either there are monsters running around the city at night, or…there might be some, I don’t know, lab experiments escapee set loose accidentally that’s been on the prowl for new preys. Because these blood spatters? They’re not because of someone holding a grudge. They’re too enthusiastic—as if whoever was responsible for this kill was doing it for sport.

‘This is why this case is transferred to me.” Irie finish with a sigh, taking out a small flashlight from the inside pocket of his suit “Cold cases and weird cases are my specialty, so let me take this one off of your hands. Hopefully there will be no more murders like this in the following few days. We’ve already had 3 this month alone. “

Irie isn’t telling any lie here, the rate of the freak murders has definitely been on the rise, and Morozuki’s guard immediately goes up. They couldn’t afford to have any _more_ of these murders—murders that are under strict orders to not be leaked to the media to avoid mass panic. But he’s not sure how long they could put these under wraps. The more the murders are starting to spread, the more difficult it would be to contain the information.

It would get really ugly when the truth reaches the public’s ears.

“Get the bastards who did this, Inspector,” the timeworn detective growls as his eyes lands at the victim’s mangled body. Even though this guy was a crook who deserves to be locked up, no one deserves to die like this. Like animals. “Get them before they hurt anybody else.”

For the first time ever since he steps foot in the house, Irie gives him a respectful nod of assent “I’ll do my best, Detective. Thank you for your cooperation today.” And with that, the younger man leaves Morozuki behind to confer with the rest of his people.

The Organized Crime Detective is still half in shock over what Irie had shared with him, but he moves quickly in getting his team to pack up and transfer over notes and data to Irie’s people. There is a different kind of fire burning in Morozuki now; it’s not the fire of rage towards Irie anymore.

It’s a fire of protectiveness over the citizens of the city he’s protecting.

The perpetrators of these crazed murders, whoever they are, are clearly dangerous for the public’s safety. He wants nothing more for them to be thrown behind bars somewhere far away from all the innocent children walking about. His department may not be the pros when it comes to handling murders, but they’re good with hearing whispers from people in the streets.

Morozuki immediately brings this up with his deputies and orders them to put out pointers on _any _rumor that might be connected to murder cases, and to report it back to him ASAP. He might not like how Irie presents himself, gaudy, loud and obnoxious, but that doesn’t mean that Morozuki is looking down on him. Central must have a reason behind his hiring and as annoying as the man is, he looks like he knows what he’s doing. The fact that there’s no mass hysteria of the public screaming about monsters so far means that he’s doing a good job, so Morozuki’s willing to trust him.

Whenever his department gets anything related to the murders, Morozuki would personally make sure that the information would reach Irie’s department. There can be no delay if it means fewer innocent lives taken away by such gruesome death.

Tokyo have seen enough murders to last them a lifetime.

_______________

The thing about summers in Tokyo is that it could get really, _really _hot.

A high temperature would be bearable after getting used to it throughout the years. The thing that one could never get used to was the dry air that comes with it. It’s when the dehydration sets in, accompanied by the headache from the glaring sun. That’s when it hits you that Japanese summers are probably created just to kill people on the spot.

There’s nothing that could be done when you’re out and about conducting your business in the open. You’ve got to brave the sun and the dry air and hope that your business would finish quicker so that you can go back to somewhere with the air conditioning blasting on the lowest temperature.

The underground subway station is one of those places that has their aircon blasting to full power during these hot months, and that’s where people usually go to, to get some reprieve from the heat.

Unfortunately, when big chunks of the big city thought the same way, it’s going to be just as humid, and suffocating, down there as it is up on the street.

Ren and Morgana are slowly dying as they stood in the corner of the subway station, trying to blend in the background as Ren helps his friend to some refreshing cold water from his water. They wouldn’t last long without a drink in this weather, and Ren would rather be seen as a weirdo than have his best friend pass out from dehydration.

Climate change is real, and it’s _killing_ them.

“Can we please call Makoto’s sister now,” Morgana rasps out, licking his lips to get every drop of water into his system “I don’t think I can handle walking around in the crazy heat any longer. This body can’t handle too much heat.”

Morgana is speaking the truth. After spending almost the entire day apartment hunting and getting no luck whatsoever in their endeavor, the time has finally arrived to make _the call._ Shaking his head to himself at his reluctance in owing Sae any more than he already did, Ren takes out his phone and swipes his finger to unlock it.

And finds himself frowning at the screen.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mishima’s been sending me messages,” Ren scrolls down his list of messages and finds about 20 coming from Mishima in the past few hours when he’s been out in the sun hunting for apartments “and they’re all in gibberish.”

“What?” Morgana taps him on the arm with a paw so that Ren could lower his phone and let him see. What the cat sees makes him frown in confusion “what language is this? Can you even read these out loud?”

“I don’t know,” in a glance, these messages looked like random gibberish, a bunch of letters put together along with several punctuations. Some of them were looking like they’re cut off halfway too. “I don’t understand any of these. Let me call him.”

Mishima’s not picking up the call. It goes unanswered as if the other line was busy, which is strange for the boy who’s practically glued to his phone. Undeterred, Ren keeps it up for about two more times until he hears it being picked up.

“Mishima?” he calls out, and waits.

There’s nothing for a few minutes. Just deep breathing and rustling. For a few moments Ren thinks that he might have been calling the wrong number before—

_“Amamiya. Help.”_ Mishima’s voice is raspy as if it hadn’t been used in so long. The last time Ren heard his friend sound like this was during the Kamoshida incident, where the boy was always looking so beat up and scared for his life. But that was years ago, there shouldn’t be a reason why Mishima’s like this now.

“Mishima, what’s going on?” Ren and Morgana glances at each other, suddenly not liking how unnerving this phone call is starting to be. “Mishima? _Mishima!_”

The line is abruptly cut before anything else could be said, and the following attempt of reconnecting the call fails. Nothing goes through, and Ren has a feeling that his friend turned off his phone. Not liking this one bit, he ignores Morgana’s attempt of re-reading the messages and immediately goes for Futaba’s number, who thankfully is still bugging his phone.

** **

Futaba’s reply comes in a split second and Ren is typing back as fast as he could. Hopefully nothing happens to Mishima during this struggle to understand what’s going on with him.

Futaba never disappoints Ren with her speed and accuracy when it comes to hacking or decoding weird things that they found throughout their stint as Phantom Thieves. Ren still stands by his opinion that meeting Futaba is one of the best things that could happen to him and the Phantom Thieves as a whole. They wouldn’t have been able to make it through things safely and smoothly without someone like her on their side.

The hacker who calls herself _Alibaba_ pulls through with answers in less than a minute and sends back about a wall of text to Ren’s phone. The more he reads it, the more he doesn’t like what’s on his screen.

It turns out that Mishima had sent him coded messages, hidden in between a bunch of gibberish. Out of the 20 messages that he sent; the coherent messages are hidden in between 7 of those texts. And in those 7 texts, the coherent messages are only one sentence long each. Futaba unscrambled them for him, puts them in the order that she thought is the best, and stitched them together into one terrifying plea.

The more he re-read the messages the more unsettled Ren feels. Morgana and Futaba shares his sentiment as they freak out in their own way around him. Ren knows he should panic at this foreboding message, but his well-honed skill of staying cool under pressure kicks into gear almost immediately.

His first instinct is to get any information with what’s going on with Mishima, and this is what he immediately gets Futaba to do. Now that they know that they can’t trust the police (when can they ever, really?), Ren makes up his mind to check up on his friend himself. He sends messages to Ryuji and Yusuke for backup and ask them to meet him in Akihabara, where the three of them would then go straight to Mishima’s house together. Ren doesn’t quite remember where it is exactly other than the general location, but he’s sure that Futaba could mark it on the map in seconds.

He immediately set on to getting to the other side of the platform when suddenly a wave of intense nausea hits him like a blunt object to the head.

It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and the sheer suddenness of it nearly sends Ren keeling over. He hears Morgana calling out his name in warning, but he couldn’t be sure. The boy flung out an arm to grab anything to steady himself, and his vision is swimming as he struggles to sit down on a flat surface. Throughout fighting the intense urge to vomit, Ren idly wonders if this was what a hangover felt like.

“Ren! _Ren!!_”

“Give me a second, Morgana,” Ren presses his eyes against his sweaty palms and wishes his head would stop spinning “My eyes are going to pop out.”

“We don’t have time! _REN!”_ Morgana’s claws dug into his skin and that yanks out a yelp out of him. Thank god it did because without it Ren wouldn’t notice what’s taken place around them during his nausea episode.

Remember when he had that intense wave of nausea? Yeah, forget about that. There’s something else entirely weird going on because the subway station that he was in right now?

It has turned into a mass _graveyard._

“What the f—”

The subway station that’s once almost full-to-the brim with people rushing towards their destinations have gone deathly silent in a drop of a hat. In place of the people waiting in line for the trains are instead lines of coffins, leaking with strange dark liquid that dripped onto the floor.

The changes don’t stop there; the entirety of the inside of subway station seems to have been altered entirely. Every inch of the place is tinged with a sickly green hue, and the temperature around then have dropped so low that Ren’s breath mists over whenever he breathes. There’s nothing at all that seems to show that summer is happening above the ground.

This feels so strongly like they’re back in Mementos once more, and he said so to his friend, but Morgana again re-confirm to him that Mementos have definitely _completely_ disappear from the surface of Tokyo that Christmas Eve two years ago. There’d be no chance of it coming back without Morgana noticing as it would mean he’d gain back his Metaverse form; something that’s proven by his long swishing tail behind him. Even so, almost all electronics have stopped functioning and Ren’s watch have stopped ticking in a way that’s similar to whenever they stepped in the Metaverse.

The two of them are more than bewildered with this change of atmosphere. Add to the fact that they’re not stuck in an underground station without a clue to what’s happening around them. Twilight Zone did not prepare Ren for this at all.

“Should we go back to the surface?” Morgana asks after the walk around the station did not produce any clue besides the immense number of coffins spread around the place. It’s as if time is suspended in the station, turning the entire place into a living graveyard.

“Yeah, let’s go up and get help, maybe I coup—”

A sudden _clop clop clop_ reverberating through the walls stopped Ren’s words immediately.

From the way he and Morgana immediately turn to each other in alarm, it’s obvious that he’s _not_ hearing things, and there’s most definitely sounds of clicking hooves against the tiled floor of the subway station. Ren one-handedly picked up his partner and rushed towards somewhere he could hide in just in case.

Being a subway station, there are a little number of places he could hide in that’s not the public toilet. His need of needing to know about their mystery guest warred against his survival instincts, and he’s gunning towards the tight corner behind the ticket machines when Morgana points out the station master booth to him.

The booth is open and empty, save for that one coffin in the corner, and it’s the perfect place to snoop from with its strategic location smack dab in the middle of the station. Without lowering his speed, Ren quickly maneuver his way towards their destination before taking a running jump and launches himself over the separator and slides in behind the booth.

Just in time too because the sound of the hooves has been getting ever closer to him only to _stop_ the moment Ren lands on the floor inside of the booth.

There’s a deep huff, and light clacking sounds against the tiles just ways away from where the two are hiding. Ren takes in a deep breath and _slowly_ lifts himself high enough just so that he could peek over the open window of the booth. What he sees turns his blood ice-cold.

There’s an armored knight on an equally armored horse standing right where he has been standing almost ten minutes before. The horse is _massive_ and the armored knight holding its reins is at least twice of Ren’s height. As if that is not alarming enough, said knight is holding a very sharp jousting lance in his left hand that’s as thick as the utility pole commonly found on the road and just as long.

Ren might think that he’s hallucinating all of these if it isn’t for the panicked hisses Morgana let out under his breath just beside him, tiny head poked out just by the glass door of the booth and eyes wide in shock, staring at the same armored knight that looks at home in this makeshift graveyard.

They’ve been through situations like this before, or well, situations _close _to this, so there ought to be some sort of explanation for this. It’d be a lot easier if Ren could contact Futaba and the others for help, but with communication down, there’s only himself and Morgana to count on. There are too many things going on at once, too many variables, but Ren tries his best to mentally organize this mess of a situation so that he could strategize a way to get them out of here safely.

From lowest to highest levels of danger, which one should be the priority?

One, the altering of the subway station. What’s once a normal station that Ren frequents have morphed into a makeshift graveyard in a blink of an eye. During this change, Ren was hit by an intense nausea that’s absent on Morgana’s end. There seems to be nothing that could be done for this from his end; trying to alter an entire station back to normal after a bizarre switcharoo like this seems as possible as trying to turn off the rain.

Two, the sudden appearance of floating coffins in the station. Along with the altering of the station, the people inside of it are altered as well. Everybody that were in the station, save for Ren and Morgana, had somehow morphed into a bunch of floating coffins with dark liquid leaking out of them. There’s nothing like this happening during Ren’s adventures in the Metaverse before, and even poking (and knocking on) the coffins did not do anything to gain attention of the people that are presumed to be inside them. Ren couldn’t do anything about these either, he doesn’t even know where to _start_ with this problem.

And the third problem, the presence of the massive armored knight.

This one definitely tops the priority list if they have any self-preservation.

The suspect timing of the knight’s appearance along with everything that happened to the subway station is definitely no coincidence. The fact that the knight is here could mean that the change in the atmosphere is _caused_ by him, or that the change in the atmosphere _invited _this big guy over.

Even though Ren has never experienced anything like this before, he’d like to think himself as proficient enough in recognizing anything coming from the Metaverse…or even from the world on the other side of the consciousness that was swathed in blue. This knight, as humanoid as it looks, does not _feel_ like it comes from the place where Morgana is from. This knight reeks off malice and despair, every huff coming from its horse ooze out waves of miasma that contaminates the air around him. There’s definitely nothing like it in the Velvet Room, if you count out the time it was controlled by a malevolent being calling itself a God of course.

The only place where Ren’s felt so much…abundant negativity like this are the Mementos and the Palaces, and because of the uncanny similarities between them, he’s almost _90% sur_e that this knight is a legitimate Shadow that is somehow set loose outside the Metaverse.

_How_ this Shadow ends up here is a big question that definitely should be answered, but Ren has a feeling that it won’t happen anytime soon.

The armored knight starts to walk towards where he’s hiding, and if he doesn’t find a way to get out of here, he and Morgana would be in a world of trouble.

Ren catches Morgana’s terrified eyes and points towards the window of the booth leading to the other side of the station _“We gotta go. He’s coming this way.”_

_“There’s no way we can go anywhere outside of this booth without being seen!” _Morgana hisses back at him, ears flat on his head and furs standing on end.

_“We can’t stay either, we’re both sitting ducks here.”_

_“And going out there is anything better? It’s going to see us in a split sec—”_

The two of them stops hissing when the half-filled thermos full of tea rolls off the table and lands with a loud crash against the floor. The tea that spills all over the ground awfully resembles blood, and almost everyone’s attention lands on the thermos as it rolls slowly along the tiled floor until it meets the glass door with a smack.

Morgana would have bitten his head off if this is Ren’s fault but for once this is neither of their fault. Seems like the station master, who Ren presumes to have turned into the floating coffin on his left, was enjoying his tea when time stopped. Though time and electricity cease to function, it doesn’t seem to freeze their previous actions. So, whatever the people have been holding before they turned into coffins would be abandoned close to where they’re standing.

Newspapers falls down layer by layer and phones drops like bricks against the ground.

Thermos of tea that was left to fend for itself have been spinning on the table by the corner of the booth before it finally makes its way off of the table and onto the ground, making a racket in the otherwise silent station that earns them the attention of the armored knight.

There’re no other choices to be made.

The armored knight’s lance obliterates half of the booth by the time Morgana and Ren launches themselves out of it. The tip of the knight’s lance misses Ren’s kidney by probably a couple of inches if he didn’t roll himself away from his spot. Morgana shoots ahead of him like an arrow, and all Ren sees of him was the white tip of his tail before the ground beneath his feet breaks and the world flips on its axis on him.

Ren feels himself fly sideways, toppling over the plastic chairs and all the floating coffins in his path before falling over face first onto the ground. Everything hurt sand his ears are ringing and his mouth tastes like _blood…_

_“REN! MOVE!”_

His body moves purely on instinct, rolling away just in time before the huge lance pierces the ground once more. Ren forces his body to move as he scrambles to his feet, stumbling and swaying, vision swimming and broken tiles debris hitting his face, but still in one piece. He spits out the blood in his mouth and watches as the knight pulls back his lance and stares at him, the eye sockets inside his helmet hollow and cold.

From this up close, the knight is actually three times his size, Ren finds himself thinking. The armored knight pulls back his arm once more and Ren watches the tip of the lance like a hawk as he balances himself on his unsteady feet. There is little to no chance of him avoiding it completely from this distance, but he could—

Loud yowling breaks his concentration and Ren stares in horror at the black thing flying towards the lance arm of the knight.

It’s Morgana.

The cat launches himself at the knight and clings tightly onto the lance arm, effectively throwing off the knight’s trajectory and missing Ren by about two feet to the left. The knight lets out a piercing wail, not the sort one would expect to have come out of something his size, and its right hand shoots up to grab Morgana.

It’s terrifying how he could hold Morgana’s entire body in just one hand and still have space for more cats.

_“Morgana!!”_ Ren’s scream is hoarse as the knight squeezes and the cat wheezes, screaming in pain as his body struggles against the metal-clad fingers squeezing tight around its lungs.

Never had Ren feels so much desperation before. His mind screams for _Arsene_, or _any_ of his Personae, as he rushes forward to save his friend. There’s nothing he could do against a Shadow this massive by himself, but he’d rather try than watch Morgana die from suffocation.

He won’t _let _that happen if he can do something about it!

Ren rolls to the side as the lance came whistling through the air again, embedding itself in the ground when it misses its target. Ren’s mind’s eye already maps the way for him as his well-honed reflexes kicks into gear. He upped his speed the moment he could sense the knight struggling with its lance and launches himself up with a jump. The familiar Joker grin spreads onto his face when he finds his footing on the flat end of the lance, and without a pause, Ren runs straight up the lance and towards the knight, eyes honed in on the crown-like purple helmet that it’s wearing.

By doing something like this, Ren is forcing the knight to choose between two targets. The tiny cat squished in its grasp or the rapidly closing in blur of a bigger target that’s aiming for its face. It’s almost funny how easily Ren could read the knight, as if natural instincts as a predator exists in all beings regardless of where they came from.

As expected, the knight lets go of Morgana immediately, and Ren spares a glance at his partner for a split second, fear loosening its grip in his heart when he sees his friend landed on all four before sprinting away hopefully to a safer location. Unfortunately for Ren, the moment the knight lets go of his friend is also the moment the knight set its sight on him solely.

And there’s no time to change his path.

Ren’s foot manages to connect with the mask in the hardest kick he could muster before he feels the wind knocked out of him by a swipe from the knight’s gauntleted hand. Ren flies across the air once again and this time instead of plastic chairs, he hits the wall with a loud crack before landing ungracefully in a sorry heap on the floor.

He doesn’t think he could move anymore.

His body’s just,

numb.

He could faintly feel tiny paws touching his face in concern and a worried voice calling his name, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

Ah, it’d feel really good to just nap right now.

He needed a nap.

Ren’s ringing ears catches another whistle and is strongly tempted to ignore it and go for that nap if it wasn’t for the large explosion that shook the place at the same time. The explosion forcefully jerks him out from his delirium and the boy groans as he struggles to lift himself up. In midst of the searing pain Ren couldn’t help the little smile that slides on his face when he sees Morgana slipping under his arm, as if trying to carry his weight on his tiny body.

“Ren! Darn it, I thought he really got you this time!” the cat is obviously overjoyed and Ren would tease him about crying if they have time to joke around. They definitely don’t at this moment, because Ren honest to goodness saw _rockets_ flew through the air like this isn’t a subway station and a warzone –

Ren actually yells out in shock when those _rockets_ makes contact with the knight’s middle and summons another explosion that shakes the ground beneath him.

“Can you stand?” a figure in a long black coat comes out of nowhere and all Ren could see from his periphery is a flash of golden hair “Do you need a boost?”

“Please.” Ren mumbles out uselessly, not really having any energy to raise his voice, and is surprised when he finds himself lifted up carefully into a sitting position by surprisingly gentle hands. His head is throbbing like mad but he could process things well enough to stare at the face of his savior—

Who is for some reason wearing a white Shiba Inu mask?

What.

“Ren! Ren!” Morgana haven’t stopped calling out for him and the worry that Ren could hear in his voice is painful to hear. He reaches out to absently rub Morgana’s little head and sends him a weak smile, feeling his facial muscles working hard just doing so.

“I’m okay.” Ren murmurs and Morgana let out a whine in relief, headbutting his aching middle as if torn between wanting to scratch Ren for worrying him or hug him. Ren huffs out a laugh before turning to his savior, not really sure how to react.

Should he comment on the mask first, or the rockets?

The blonde masked figure cocks their head, almost in wonder “You do not seem to be badly hurt. Just a few bruises here and there, but nothing permanent. Please do avoid another hit to your head or you will risk a concussion.” The blonde’s way of speaking is strangely stilted, as if they’re not native to the Japanese language, but everything that came out is perfectly understandable.

Ren ends up pushing both the mask and the rockets aside in the end. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for saving us.”

The blonde figure nods and reaches out a finger to gently caress Morgana’s head, getting his attention enough for him to turn his blue eyes on them “And you will need some icing to your middle. One of your ribs cracked, little one.”

On some other time, Morgana would have gone on a tantrum after being called something like _‘little one’_, but this Morgana is too much in pain to do anything but meekly nod and gingerly move in a way that alerted Ren to the injury that his friend has been hiding. He’ll have to bring Morgana to a vet later, after they get out of this mess.

“We’ll definitely do that, after we get out of here.” Ren notices a moving black lump on the ground quite a way from them and balls his fists when he saw that the lump is the knight, having fallen off his horse. Said horse is even further away, nothing but a smoking mass disintegrating into thin air after the barrage of rockets.

“What are we going to do with him?” Ren jerks his head towards the knight, currently struggling to get on his feet with a half-broken lance still in his hand.

The blonde turns toward the Shadow and Ren hears a loud _whirring_ sound that awfully reminds him of a gun reloading before they lift a hand in threateningly. Ren stares as the tips of the fingers falls open, exposing that the hand is a _mechanical _hand “I will dispose of it. Please move back into a safer area, this will be over in 5 minutes.”

5 minutes seems to have gone even quicker as Ren carefully lifts Morgana into his arms and limps over for cover behind a still-standing row of plastic chairs away from the battleground. His masked savior launches into a fast run towards the knight and engage him in close combat, arms moving in a blur as they send rapid punches along with _bullets_ in the speed of a Gatling gun let loose.

The knight is no match for the blonde. Ren could definitely pinpoint the moment the knight lost the match, right when the blonde blows a hole in the middle of the knight’s stomach and aimed both of their hands at the crevice.

_“Maximum Charge!” _there’s a loud buzzing noise like a laser canon charging up as the tips of the blonde’s fingers glowed blue _“Fire!”_

Blinding blue light washes over the room along with another mini explosion. Ren covers Morgana’s body with his own and braces against impact, but nothing but the wind from the force of the explosion hits them. It’s as if the blonde has positioned the battle in a way so that no debris would hit either Morgana or Ren.

By the time Ren raises his head and survey the battleground, there’s nothing but a disintegrating black mass that is left of the knight. The victor of the battle stands tall as they assessed their downed opponent, waiting until all the mass have evaporates before moving from their spot. Ren watches as blonde head turned this way and that before moving towards the corner by an upturned vending machine. They bend down and reaches under the machine, hand enclosing around a glowing…something that Ren couldn’t see from this distance.

What is that?

A small groan moves his attention immediately towards the small figure cradled protectively in his arms and Ren’s heart almost stop in worry “Morgana? _Morgana_, are you alright?”

Morgana’s tail flicks weakly in agitation “This is the worse train ride, ever.”

The relief that washes over him is overwhelming as Ren let a laugh tumble out “Let’s take the bus, next time.”

“No promises. Who is that guy?” Morgana warily eyes the blonde who’s walking towards them with a scrutinizing look.

“I don’t know. A friend, I hope.” Their savior saved their butts and protected them from harm and Ren hopes that this isn’t a ploy in gaining sympathy for them to double cross them in the future. He’d had enough of double-crossing back in the days of the Phantom Thieves. All he wants to do now is thank their savior profusely before going home for that well-deserved nap.

The blonde masked figure stops and kneels down before Ren’s hunched figure, still curled up around Morgana protectively “The Dark Hour will end in a few minutes, so you have time to gather yourself before time goes back to normal. Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like me to carry you to the nearest hospital?”

How much more helpful can this person be? Ren is sure that this person was not entirely human. They’re _too_ kind to him.

“I don’t think that’s necessary thank you,” Ren said even though he could feel his muscles and joints throb in complaint. There’s no time for pain when there’s something else that took his attention “what did you say? _Dark Hour?_”

It’s a term that Ren had never heard of before, but for some reason these two words sends a chill down his spine.

The blonde goes silent for a moment, as if appraising Ren’s entire being before launching into an explanation when they deem him well enough to understand “The Dark Hour is a phenomenon that occurs as a time anomaly. _This,_” the blonde sweeps a hand at their surroundings, the sickly neon green hue bright against the black of the floating coffins “is the Dark Hour taking place. Usually, the Dark Hour occurs during midnight, where the clock stops for one extra hour. This Dark Hour is a case of irregularity, even though it lasts for the same length of time.”

Ren has no idea why _this_ Dark Hour was an irregular one, his head is still scrambling for answers “So, people turning to coffins, water to blood, it’s _normal_?”

“Yes. During the Dark Hour all electricity cease to function and water turns to blood. All human beings transmogrify into coffins, except for…certain people with potentials.”

The way the blonde say it is as if they’re insinuating something, but Ren’s brain is too tired to notice. There’s a nagging thought that is making itself known in the corner of his brain and Ren takes the chance instead to ask

“And that knight was a Shadow?”

There is a pause as if the blonde is stunned by him knowing the term, and Ren hears a low laugh (a girly laugh?) before the figure gives a firm nod “Yes. Shadows appears in droves during the Dark Hour. It seems that you are lucky that only one Intrepid Knight decided to venture to the station during this Dark Hour.”

The implication is not lost on Ren. If there were more of the knights running around in the station before the blonde arrived earlier, he wasn’t sure that he and Morgana could come out of this battle alive.

There’s a lull in the conversation as Ren catches his breath, even though Morgana keeps hissing at him to ask more questions and fish out more information regarding this Dark Hour. Ren agrees with him, this is the perfect chance to get an explanation out of his masked savior, but he’s just so _tired_.

“The Dark Hour will be ending in one minute,” the blonde speaks out once more a while later and Ren could only turn to them in exhaustion “Please let me get you to the surface, at least. It would be no good for you to look like this when time returns to normal. There would be questions.”

And Ren fully agree with everything that comes out of their mouth. He cringes just imagining the questioning that would come his way—why he looked like a car ran over him and why he’s holding a cat that looked half squished. After much coaxing from the blonde’s end, Ren requested them to bring him and Morgana to the nearest veterinarian instead, ignoring said cat’s complaints. He’s not even sure exactly _how_ the blonde us going to bring them there, so he’s rather surprised when the blonde easily lifts him up into their arms in a cradle hold. Ren’s not really sure where to hold on to with Morgana clutching tightly into the front of his shirt.

There’s a warning of _‘grit your teeth’ _before the blonde launches into a run that’s possibly faster than any human being could ever go while carrying this much weight on them. Everything became a blur as Ren is transported away from the battleground but he could pinpoint exactly when time began to move normally again. They’re out of the station and off towards the south of Shibuya when he sees the green tinge disappearing, and light coming back as if dawn has broken over them. One blink and just like that the floating coffins turns back into normal people nonchalantly going about their business and not at all aware of what had taken place in the past hour.

_______________

It’s not until about half an hour later after the blonde dropped them off at an animal hospital, with Morgana busy in a full body check-up, and him sitting in the waiting room of the vet office throbbing all over, that Ren feels well enough to check his phone.

His bag is gone, flew off somewhere during the times he was thrown all over the station by the armored knight. Well, the _Intrepid Knight, _as the blonde called it. He’d have to go to the lost-and-found and get it the next time he’s at that station, there’s no way he’s going back for it now. Ren just hope that it’s still in one piece.

He’s very thankful that he still has his wallet and phone on him during all of that.

The boy visibly cringes when he finally takes out his phone from his jeans pocket, noticing the cracks on the screen. There’s a huff of relief when the screen turns on with some tapping, and Ren’s brows almost flies off of his head when he sees the notifications on his phone.

_328 text messages_ on the group chat, and _58 missed calls_ from the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

What in the world happened?

The phone jumps in his hands when a call comes in and Ren could only discern Ryuji’s name on the screen before he quickly swipes to connect the call.

“Ryuji, what—”

_“REN! Finally!!! Where you been? You alright?! Didja see the news with Mishima?”_

“What news? What’s going on?”

_“You didn’t read our messages? Dude, Mishima’s been arrested!! The cops are sayin’ that he’s a murder suspect!”_

Ren feels his jaw goes slack. What the f— “What the hell, Ryuji—_how?”_

_“I ‘unno man, Yusuke and I quickly gone to his house when you didn’t arrive at the meet up spot and like, cop cars were there! They got him in ‘cuffs and shit! And now the news’re sayin’ he murdered a coupla people or somethin’! It’s a mess!! Oh, and the girls are yellin’ at me to ask where you are. You ok, bud’?”_

There are a few times in his life where Ren’s taken so off guard with shock that he feels like disassociating, and one of those times is that time he was tortured through the interrogation by the Police after getting caught in Sae’s palace.

And right now? Well, he’s quickly making his way up to that level of shock quickly.

What the hell is happening?!


	3. swimming with sharks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sae gets involved, and makes a choice.

** _ Summer 2018, Present _ **

The clicking of her high heels echoes off the walls as Sae makes her way towards conference room #3. There’s a cacophony mix of phone calls and furious whirring of printers working all around her, something that Sae have come to enjoy far more than the sound of police sirens in the past two years. She double checks the file folders she has in her arms to make sure that she has everything she needs when the assigned room comes to view. This is a meeting that must go smoothly as she very well knows that emotions are running high ever since that piece of news broke in Tokyo.

With two sharp knocks signaling her entrance, Sae opens the door and is greeted by the pale and anxious faces of Mr. and Mrs. Mishima.

“Niijima,” a voice calls out from the left and Sae turns towards her senpai, Megumi, who’s been taking care of the couple. Megumi gives her a nod before turning to the couple and begins the introduction “This is Mishima Aoki and his wife, Mishima Kaede. They’re Mishima Yuuki’s parents. This is Niijima Sae, she will be taking care of you from now on.”

The couple gives a distracted bow, which Sae returns respectfully, before closing the door behind her and gesturing for everyone to sit down. She takes out the necessary folders and barely notices her senpai making tea in the background.

“Mishima Yuuki,” Sae began, breaking the silence of the room and making the anxious parents jump from surprise “currently held in temporary confinement in the Metropolitan Police Department on the count of three murders and aggravated assault—"

“He’s innocent!”

Everyone turns to Mishima Kaede, shaking from head to toe and looking as if she has not slept for days “My boy wouldn’t even harm a fly, _how_ can people even think that he murders—” her husband immediately wraps his arms around her as she breaks into a loud sob “_my boy, my poor boy.”_

Sae catches Megumi’s worried eyes as the latter place cups of tea in front of the couple, and some for themselves before settling down besides Sae and across of the Mishimas. Even though Megumi have been in the firm longer than Sae, she’s a Paralegal who was assigned to Sae by their practice. During meetings like this she has to follow Sae’s lead as the two of them have been working as a team in the past year. Sae wishes that she’d stop doing these assistant-y things though. Megumi is just too nice sometimes.

Seeing the distraught parents, Sae’s reminded of the fact that she’s not really good with dealing with crying people and repeatedly reminds herself to speak nicely to the Mishimas. Sae hopes that she doesn’t appear entirely heartless during this case, she’s been working on being more approachable to emotional clients.

“Ma’am,” Sae begins, using her best comforting voice “this is the official arrest made by the MPD according to the evidences. It’s horrifying—”

“And not true! My boy was set up!”

“—and I, for one, is in complete agreement with you. Mishima-kun is innocent.”

The Mishimas looks at her with hanging jaws at her statement and Megumi has to look away to hide her amused smile. Sae works hard to stop the twitch in her mouth from breaking out into a smile as she continues on while there was no interruption.

“From what I have read on the crime scene reports, there is just no way Mishima-kun could do all that by himself. He lacks the approximate weight and height to be the suspect. But, at the same time, he was the only one alive from the scene with incriminating evidences against him. So, unless we work hard together to construct proof of his alibi, Mishima-kun will be stuck in containment for much longer.”

This gain her the Mishimas’ entire attention, and Sae knows that they won’t be interrupting her again anytime soon.

She never would have imagined to be handling another presumably supernatural-related case after changing jobs, but alas, when the Phantom Thieves asks for her help, the only possible thing she could do is to give it her all.

_______________

** _ Summer 2018, 9 days ago _ **

Ren is windswept, sweaty and distraught when he arrives at Le Blanc, where everyone is waiting for him. He could have run the entire way back, but Morgana’s still pretty fragile, so he had to take his time (even if his friend is adamant about being healthy). The rest of the Phantom Thieves, and Sojiro, stares at him when he burst through the front door and stares at his sorry state for a few seconds, before exploding with questions all at once with the force of a mini bomb.

What happened?

Who did this to them?

Was he in a car accident?

Ren doesn’t even know how to start answering, especially when Sojiro turns red from worry and presses his phone against his ear to call for Dr. Takemi to come and take a look at him. In midst of the chaos Ren could distantly hear Morgana’s painful yowl as Futaba mishandle him a little too hard in his current condition.

Feeling an impending headache coming, he raises a hand and cocks a brow in a way that’s reminiscent to his alter ego, and he could see the immediate effect of the look when his friends’ chatters which gradually dies down enough to give him space to speak. He knows what he had to do first though and walks towards Sojiro.

“Sojiro-san,” he calls out and receives Sojiro’s baleful glare as the old man waited for his line to connect “Can the phone call to Dr. Takemi-wait?”

“You have bruises all over, kid, it’s like back then all over again” the barmaster growls, eyes scrutinizing the bluish, almost purple, bruises on Ren’s skin that’s uncovered by his t-shirt.

“It’s really not that bad—”

“I’m still calling—”

“Please, that will _have _to wait.” The Trickster’s tone is forceful as Ren is adamant that his guardian to listen to him. They can’t waste any more time.

Not when Mishima’s life might be on the line.

Sojiro only stares at him, stubbornly stuck in a half worry half angry state over what happened to Ren, but he knows that the boy he thinks of as his own son has his reasons to sound so forceful when he’s usually so laid back. This is starting to remind him of the event with Shido years ago, and the man does not like it. But he knows that Ren fully understands what he’s doing, and so he cancels the call and lowers his phone slowly from his ear.

“But you’re still going for a check-up.” Sojiro insists stubbornly, at which Ren only smiles a little at and nods his agreement. With that settled, Ren turns back to his waiting friends all of whom has differing expressions on their faces. He doesn’t even know who to address first, though he feels touched that all of them look worried on his behalf.

The boy sits down on a stool before addressing the entire room as a whole “I’ll tell you what happened to me and Morgana, but _after_ we get the overall situation with Mishima. His situation is time-sensitive, as we all know, so it takes precedence.” Ren adds darkly, referring to the time he himself had spent in lockup and the eventual result of that stay.

Ryuji lets out a curse as they all agree and Yusuke launches into an explanation “Earlier this afternoon, after receiving your texts, Ryuji and I immediately went to the meeting place. But you didn’t show up, and was not responsive to our messages after twenty minutes of waiting, so Ryuji and I decided to go on ahead to Mishima’s house. What we saw there was, in summary, a complete chaos.

There were multiple police cars outside of Mishima’s house, lights flashing, and armed officers milling about. Ryuji tried to get information from the patrol officers, but none of them wanted to share. Also, they were quite rude with the way they talked to us, there was no need to be rough to bystanders.” The artist added with disdain.

Ryuji smashes his fist to his other hand and growls, “Those assholes! I was just askin’ if they got the wrong dude, coz like, it’s Mishima y’know? Dude couldn’t even throw a proper punch! What’s all that army of police for?”

“Did they say he’s wanted for murder to you two?” Ren asks, brows furrowing as he tries to imagine the scene.

“No,” Yusuke shakes his head and sits down on the opposite stool from Ren “they said nothing to us but ‘stand back’. Some of Mishima’s neighbors were whispering about it however, so we piece it together through them.”

“The cops lead him out ‘n cuffs, and they didn’t beat him up, but man, Mishima looked like crap.” It is obvious that Ryuji’s holding in a lot of anger at the injustice of the treatment of their friend “Like, come on, they’re treating him like he’s a criminal! _Mishima!_ These coppers were acting as if he had done somethin’ to their mothers, those sons of a—”

“The official statement was given out during a press conference by the MPD,” Makoto cut in flawlessly, too used to interrupt Ryuji before he could drop an f-bomb “It was about the three freak murders we had in the past month or so, and while they didn’t give out his name nor show his picture, MPD still referenced a juvenile-aged boy as the prime suspect. With how flashy his arrest was, it’s not really hard for people to put things together.”

“Mishima was a scapegoat, not a suspect!” Ann couldn’t help herself and burst out as if she’s dying from holding it all inside “And there was no need to show him off like he’s a terrorist! What’s with all the gunshow, huh?!” She’s so agitated that Haru has to rub her arm to calm the blonde down.

The scion of the Okumura company turns to Ren and speaks softly, but with a sense of urgency “Mishima-kun was treated with unjust intimidation, especially since he’s still considered juvenile age. This treatment was something we see frequently during Shido’s era, but I thought that things have changed. Ren-kun, Futaba said Mishima-kun sent you messages for help?” at Ren’s nod she continues “Has he shown any strange behavior before this?”

“None whatsoever,” Ren answers after giving Haru’s question a proper thought “The last time I talked to him was about university, and he was talking about submitting the documentary of the Phantom Thieves for a film festival. And this was…around two weeks ago. And we haven’t talked since until I got the messages this afternoon.”

Haru turns to Ryuji and Ann and the two shake their heads. Ann doesn’t have Mishima’s number and the last time Ryuji spoke to Mishima it was about a maid café, and the two were in Akihabara.

“Dude was fine then,” the former tracks-star said, face scrunching up as he recalls their meeting “we made plans to visit a café, so like, I think everything was normal? Oh, wait a sec,” Ryuji immediately reach inside his pocket for his phone and scrolls up the messaging app to his and Mishima’s conversation “yeah, ok so, we were ‘sposed to go to the café like four days ago, but he pulled out. Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout it tho, so I thought he got plans with family. Y’think this related to the case?” he looks up at Ren.

The dark-haired boy found himself shaking his head “Can’t rule them out at this point. But the timeline fits.” There’s nothing sure that could be said with only so little information on their end. Ren has a niggling feeling that there’s a big picture in play, but he couldn’t seem to figure out the shape of the pieces to put them together.

“Ren,” he looks up when Makoto calls, not even realizing that he’d closed his eyes in his exhaustion and meets the concerned eyes of the strategist of the Phantom Thieves “will you let us know now what happened to you and Morgana now?”

Ah. He did say that didn’t he. After a glance at Morgana, comfortably perched on a table and dotingly pet on by a silent Futaba, Ren launches into the story of the fight between him, a cat and a 7-foot-tall knight on a horse.

There was a mix of reactions that comes about at the end of the story, but Ren’s favorite has to be the almost gibberish way Futaba ends up in when he reaches the part of the masked robot savior. He swears that her eyes almost pop out when he explains how his savior owns a rocket launcher and practically _nuked_ the Shadow with a laser beam from close range and saved his and Morgana’s sorry behinds.

“You’re _joking.”_ Futaba looks like a person who is told that Nirvana is an electronic store in Akihabara.

“If only,” Morgana pipes up from beside her, one eye open and staring at the hacker “but what Ren said was all true. it was a battle from one of the TV shows you watch, with the blue beam and rocket launchers. If we weren’t hanging on to a thread, Ren and I would definitely be questioning that person.” Was it even a person? Morgana had a weird feeling about them. No human being has a built-in weapon in them, he had checked, and their savior was conveniently built in with weapons that was just strong enough to nuke a boss-level Shadow clean off the surface of the earth. They weren’t even in the Metaverse to start out with, what kind of weapon did that person use?

And as if that was not strange enough, there’s something familiar about that person to Morgana. As if they remind him of someone he knows very well, a feeling of safety when they were around. It was odd, because Morgana himself knew that he’d never come across anyone like that.

If the Velvet Room was still accessible, he would have gone to visit just to ask Lavenza about this, but…

“Morgana?”

The cat shakes his head and looks at the people around him, even Sojiro’s paling face behind the counter “I know that this is a big thing, the appearance of Shadow back in the world without the Metaverse, but Ren was right. Mishima’s in dire trouble and we have to make sure that he’s not going to—” _die?_ “—suffer under the police’s watch.”

“Onee-chan said that the police have gone on a reform since Shido’s era,” Makoto says, as if knowing what Morgana’s implying. Everyone understands too that Morgana and Ren are very worried for the frail boy, because when Ren was captured, he came out with a broken body. Mishima wouldn’t last like Ren did. “I think we have time to look around.”

The strategist glances at Ren who’s twirling his hair, deep in thought. Ryuji is the one who replies, face sneering hard at the possibility of the cops reforming.

“Them cops? _Reform?_ I doubt it. They’ve never stop acting like they own the place, just ‘coz you can’t see ‘em, doesn’t mean that they stopped. I don’t trust them.”

And from the look on everyone’s faces, it’s obvious that they agree.

Makoto smiles sadly, she has a lot of work to do when she gets on the force to win their trust “Honestly? I don’t either. But we need to trust that the police at least will keep him alive until his hearing to give us enough time to look around. _If_ we are going to look around…” she glances at their enigmatic leader, who’s still twirling his hair.

It takes a while until Ren looks up at them, eyes clear even though he looks worse for wear.

“We _are_ going to look around,” he confirms to everyone’s relief “everything feels too suspicious, and too out of character for Mishima. We have to work differently now, however, since we don’t have the metaverse to help us.” At this he looks at his friends in the eyes one by one “if we’re doing this, we’re going to be _extra _careful and cautious. We’re going to have to do everything by the proper channels—”

Everyone groans out loud and that got him to laugh, but the curly haired boy quickly schools himself.

“—and since the proper channels means that we have to stop depending on the supernatural to get our information, it means we have to…go pound the pavement once again, so to say.” They have to get out of the police’s eyes and be regular civilians now that they have no supernatural intervention to help them.

There would be no more palaces to bail them out if the shit hits the fan.

Their options are limited now that they’ve regressed to regular humans with regular powers…

It would feel helpless if it’s not for the presence of everyone in the room.

Ren’s source of strength.

“So?” Ann eagerly scooches forward in her seat with anticipation “Are we back in action? The Phantom Thieves?”

It’s as if her words lit a fire inside of them and at once everyone looks towards the leader who bravely led them through their adventure to save the world. The one they’d follow even to the darkest timeline.

Ren responds to the question with a grin “Of course. The Phantom Thieves is now back in business.”

And so, with the revival of the Phantom Thieves, they quickly get their priorities in order. Plans needs to be pulled up and strategies needs to be thought through. There will be no more pulling up plans out of thin air the night before the mission starts because they just can’t afford that much freedom any longer. There’s no fallback plan to fall on to this time—no supernatural intervention and outside intervention from people in the force is not available.

Well…not _completely _unavailable…

“Why don’t you kids talk this out with Niijima?” at Makoto’s look of confusion, Sojiro clarifies “The older one, your sister. She might be able to help.”

“She’s not a Prosecutor anymore, though.” Futaba pipes up without looking away from her laptop screen where she’s been tapping away.

Sojiro puts down the glass he’s been wiping on the counter and looks at the group of kids “Well no, but she’s still working in law at some capacity, right? Maybe you can connect her to the kid’s parents. If you want a trusted insider in the case, that’s the only way to get in without getting in trouble.”

The man balks at the intense look the kids give him at the end of his speech “W-what?”

“That…is actually a great idea.” Yusuke says thoughtfully before turning to Makoto “Your sister is a Defense Attorney now, yes?”

“Well, yes but—”

“They’re the ones defending in courts, right?”

“Oh yeah, like Phoenix Wright!”

“Ryuji, not the time for your games—”

“No, no, Ryuji’s right! Phoenix Wright actually is rather accurate representation for Attorneys—”

“Ann-chan,” Haru calls out with a small laugh.

“Oh, whoops, sorry. Makoto, please continue.”

Makoto couldn’t help her smile when she’s finally given her spotlight “Phoenix Wright is a good game for Attorneys, I have to agree, Onee-chan actually approved of them.” And she receives a blinding smile from Ann and a proud grin from Ryuji. Another laugh before she gets back to business “Anyway, I was saying, she _is_ a Defense Attorney and we can ask her for help but…”

There’s a look of awkward discomfort on her face and Haru has to coax her to continue talking.

“What’s wrong, Mako-chan?”

Surrounded by concerned stares from her friends, Makoto could do naught but surrender “Well, Onee-chan is not…exactly known for being…um…_affordable_ with her rates…” she cringes a little bit “I just…I don’t want to raise hopes…”

Ah.

“So, you’re saying her services as an Attorney comes at an exorbitant cost?”

“Yusuke!” “Dude.” Ann and Ryuji call him out at once and the artist raised his arms to show he means no ill will with his insensitivity and shoots an apology to Makoto, who says she doesn’t mind.

“Onee-chan’s been working legal with companies and a few cases with expats ever since she changed jobs,” the strategist explains to her friends “but she hasn’t been anywhere near criminal cases like this ever since she left the Prosecutor’s office.”

Ren’s watching her thoughtfully, brain working hard to put together a semblance of a plan “But she accepts criminal cases? Or is she strictly working on legal problems now?”

Makoto shakes her head “I’m not quite sure. We have to ask her for the details.”

Joker nods and gathers his thoughts before he addresses the room as a whole “Okay, how about this. Since Makoto doesn’t want to raise hopes, I think that we should just connect Mishima’s parents to Sae-san as a start. Let them do the research by themselves, so we won’t be getting their hopes up if Sae-san’s rates are above their payrate. It depends on them if they want to accept or not, but maybe they would be open to use the service of someone trustworthy like Sae-san than having to look for another lawyer from scratch by themselves.”

From the nods he sees around the room, it’s a complete agreement. Makoto let out a sigh of relief as a giggling Ann brings her in for a sideway hug.

“It’s a lot better than accepting lawyers offered by the cops.” Futaba says darkly, earning her a collective of nods.

Ren turns to Makoto when their friends launches into their own discussion on where they should start gathering information and on who to ask help from.

“Can you let her know?” Ren asks his strategist quietly “I don’t want to spring this on her, but Sae-san is the only one we can trust.”

“I’ll let her know after this,” and an impish look came on the Criminal Justice student’s face “But you really do trust my sister, don’t you? So different compared to the past.”

“Well, what can I say?” Ren replies with a good-natured shrug “she did save my life, after all. I have full faith on her abilities as a Defense Attorney.”

Makoto laughs “She’ll be pleased to hear that.” Her sister has been working on culminating a better reputation ever since she changed jobs. Sae doesn’t want to be known for her intimidation tactics like how she was when she’s a Prosecutor—she wants people to be comfortable with her to trust her now, in her ability to defend them in court. Machiavelli is wrong and Niijima Sae is the example.

It is with a lighter heart that Makoto reaches into her pocket to take out her phone. It might be better for her sister to talk with all of them as a group than just her now that she thinks about it…

Their relationship has been mending ever since the end of Shido’s era, but it doesn’t mean that Makoto stops feeling awkward with asking big favors from her big sister. They’re better at communicating now, but there’s still bumps every now and then. They’re still a work in progress, but much _much_ better in comparison to 2 years ago.

When Sae picks up her call, Makoto opens with a greeting before going straight to the point.

_______________

** _ Summer 2018, 9 days ago _ **

When Sae received that call from Makoto, she was preparing her briefs for an upcoming court date. It was the last thing on her schedule for that day and then she could go home and get started on dinner. Now that they’ve been working on fixing their relationship, Sae’s gone to dividing their chores back into half again rather than have Makoto do it all.

At first Makoto refuses on the grounds that Sae’s the one bringing in money between the two of them, but Sae persisted. She doesn’t want to make the same mistakes as last time, and this way it’d be easier on both of them. Makoto has been taking night classes ever since she started college, to finish early she says, but Sae knows that it’s so that she could get a part-time job and her own income to avoid being too dependent on Sae.

It makes her sad at first when Sae realizes, and then the shame came two-fold when she remembers her harsh words to her little sister, that night so long ago.

_‘You’re useless to me!’_

Even remembering that scene brings pain to her heart, still, after all these years.

Perhaps the same memory has been haunting Makoto ever since then, even though she said nothing about it. That’s also probably why she’s been job-searching like mad during the summer following her graduation. Makoto is very selective with the job-searching, and turns down the ones with inflexible schedules regardless of the pay. She always keeps her big sister in mind when looking for jobs, so that their schedules complement each other’s’ and that they could still spend time with each other before bed.

She’s such a good sister.

Sae knows that she has much to make up for to Makoto, and she’s starting small.

They’ve gone to dividing up cooking dinner between the two of them. On the nights that Sae can come home earlier than Makoto, she’ll be the one cooking dinner and Makoto will wash the dishes. On Makoto’s days where she has no night classes or job shifts at the bookstore, she’ll go home and start on dinner while Sae takes care of the dishes. Breakfast is simpler now, whoever wakes up earlier can cook whatever they want or if they want something simple, it’s bread and cereal for the day.

This routine reminds the two of them of their dynamics when their father was still alive, and the comfortable atmosphere that they knew of back then returns into their home once again after having it stay cold and unfriendly for so long following his death.

Now, home is a warm and comfortable thing for Sae.

Now, she can’t wait to go home and spend time with her little sister.

A drastic change from the times where she couldn’t stand to be at home and much prefers to pull an all nightery at the office.

She’s a fool for abandoning this comfort, honestly.

The young Attorney is startled out of her train of thoughts when the harsh sound of her phone vibrating against the wooden surface of her office table pierced the air. Sae picks it up with a frown before relaxing at the sight of Makoto’s name.

Speak of the devil.

“_Onee-chan?”_

“Makoto,” Sae pins her phone between her shoulder and ear as she moves to gather her paperwork into one folder “great timing. I’ll be on my way home in 15 minutes and I’m thinking of grabbing something for dinner. What are you in the mood for tonight? Do you want pizza? Or Chinese food?”

_“Um, I’m good with whatever you want—but, Onee-chan, you said you’re on the way home?”_

There’s a sense of urgency in her voice that she seldom hears and Sae freezes immediately, brows furrowing “I am, yes. Are you alright? What’s going on?”

There was a lot of shushing in the background of Makoto’s end, somebody is singing, a chorus of _‘Hi, Sae-san!’_s and a loud yowling of one familiar cat—Sae really couldn’t help the little smile that comes on her face. Her sister definitely hit the friendship bingo with her group of friends. They are loyal to her as she is to them, and it warms Sae’s heart to see their strength of friendship.

Though to be honest, she’s a little bit jealous too.

Sae’s never really had a solid group of friends like Makoto’s. Her path to success has been harsh and she’s burned many bridges to get where she is right now. Sae doesn’t even think it’s possible to mend them after what she’s done—to say that she was ruthless is an understatement.

Jealousy have always been Sae’s weakness, as her Palace have proven to her, so she’s been keeping herself in check. She’ll have her own group of friends too one day. Soon. Maybe.

She’s trying.

“Makoto?”

_“Sorry, my friends are—guys, quiet down I can’t hear—OK so, um. There’s something that we need your help with. Can you stop by Le Blanc after you’re done with work? The team wants to speak to you.”_

The formal way Makoto is asking for her raises a lot of alarms but Sae’s voice betrays none of her worry “Is everything alright?”

Her little sister takes a while to answer _“For me, yes. But, one of my friends is in trouble. Um, legal trouble.”_

“What? Who is it? Is it Amamiya?”

_“Oh! Oh no, not him, though he does need your help about something—but no, none of us in the group is in trouble. It’s our other friend, he’s a supporter of the group. We think he might need your help, but we need to catch you up on some things first.”_

Legal help? Makoto knows about her professional rates, and as much as Sae wants to be altruistic, her contract won’t let her do pro bono legal work unless her boss signs it off. Even so, Makoto’s subtle pleading tugs the strings in her heart and as much as she has a bad feeling with whatever request this is, her feeling of protectiveness over this group of kids compels her to at least listen to whatever they have to say.

These group of kids is nothing but interesting in all the ways.

“Okay,” Sae finds herself saying, quickening her packing to get to Le Blanc as fast as she could without running all the way there “We can get dinner on the way home.”

_“Okay. Thank you so much, Onee-chan. I’ll see you later.”_

“You’re welcome. I’ll be right there.”

It takes her at least half an hour to reach Yongenjaya by train and another ten minutes to walk from the station to the coffeeshop. Sae made sure not to rush, but she still feels disheveled when she steps through the door. She only has time to see the bunch of kids that’s pretty much comes part and parcel with her little sister and Sojiro’s amused face before she’s swarmed by said bunch of kids.

There is a chorus of greetings, an offer of drink, invitation to sit down, Yusuke offering to take her bag—it is a chaotic mess and Sae loves it. She’s gotten used to this mess ever since she’s gotten involved with this group, and it’s the good kind of chaotic mess that she and Makoto are unfamiliar with and soon grows very fond of.

It isn’t until Sae has enough time to rest up and some drink in her that they begin their meeting. Like usual, Ren is taking point in this meeting with Makoto as his second. Sae rather like this dynamic, and is rather amused by it as well. It’s amazing how these kids can work so solidly together like this.

Sae decides to break the ice first “Makoto told me that you need legal help?”

Ren nods, immediately in business “Yes. Not for any of us, but for one of our friends. His name is Mishima Yuuki.”

“Mishima Yuuki…” the Attorney frowns at the name. She’s heard of it, everyone in her line of job with connection to the police have heard of it. It’s a messy case, and Sae’s rather dismayed to hear that her little sister’s friends have anything to do with it. “He’s your friend? Are you by any chance connected to his case?”

“No, not at all. We’re actually taken by surprise by this, and would probably stay in the dark if Ryuji and Yusuke hadn’t witnessed his arrest.”

Sae’s eyes immediately flick to the two boys who are both frowning “You two were there?”

The two boys glance at each other before Ryuji takes the lead “Uh, yeah. We’re s’posed to meet up and all but Mishima’s been bailin’ so we decided that we’d go pick him up. Right, Yusuke?”

“Yes. He, um, did not respond to any of our messages nor phone calls…” the artist looks uncomfortable until Ryuji elbows him in the side “We arrived at his house to see the police taking him to their car with him in cuffs. Neighbors talk, but I don’t know how trustworthy their words can be.”

“Boys,” Sae says with a smirk “You know that if you want my help, it’s better to just tell me the whole truth instead of fibbing.”

All at once, immediately, a large collective sigh of relief breaks out over the room. Sojiro rolls his eyes in the background.

“I told you it’s a bad idea.” Makoto says with a facepalm.

“She can smell lies! _Smell_, I tell you! And Inari is a lousy liar!” Futaba sticks out her tongue at Yusuke when the artist looks affronted by the accusation. The two proceeds to bicker in the background.

Ann sends Ryuji a look “No, it’s just a bad idea from the start. Why did we even do this in the first place?”

“Because Ryuji-kun is afraid that the enemy might get to Sae-san too.”

Morgana meows loudly from his position by Futaba’s laptop on the table that earns him a look from Ryuji and Yusuke, who overheard. Sae wishes she could understand him like the kids do sometimes.

“Hey, I’m just bein’ realistic here,” the blonde boy crosses his arm petulantly before turning to Sae “Sorry ‘bout that, but they got to Ren so I’m like, we gotta make sure they don’t get to you too.”

At his words, Sae’s hackles immediately rises and turns to the leader of the group. Just like Ryuji implies, Ren looks worse for wear. There are mottled bruises on his skin, scattered and uneven, and the small winces that comes with each of his movements indicates that the boy is, once again, rather beaten up.

Ren notices her scrutiny and gives a reluctant smile “Morgana and I were attacked on our way back from Shibuya. Not by humans, by the way.” He immediately follows up seeing the panic rising in Sae’s eyes.

“Humans? What—”

“Shadow.”

That one word sends chills up Sae’s spine. The memory of the red sky, the construct made of bones and blood caging the city, the ooze of black and red miasma and that unforgettable battle between God and the Demon King. Sae would say it’s unforgettable, but strangely, other than a few people outside of the Phantom Thieves, nobody seems to realize or even _remember _what had taken place that day. On some days Sae doubts herself, and if it not for Makoto and her friends, she’d definitely have an existential crisis about it.

The Attorney lets out a sharp intake of breath “But I thought they—you said the metaverse does not exist anymore?”

“We thought so as well…but, apparently not.” Morgana yowls from his spot on the table and Sae realizes that the cat is bandaged up and his fur is slightly dirty. Ren nods at him before turning back to Sae “Morgana said that he didn’t sense the Metaverse during the attack so we can rule out the Metaverse coming back.”

“Then how did the Shadow—?”

“Abnormality, I think.” The boy with the Joker codename frowns, as if trying to put together a puzzle before shaking his head “But, that’s a story for another day. We’ll be investigating this, but we’ll be needing your help with Mishima. We as a collective have been talking, and it’s safe to say that he was set up as a scapegoat.”

Sae’s business mode immediately kicks in, putting everything regarding metaverse and shadows in the back burner for the main problem that the kids have asked her over for “That’s a strong accusation. On what ground do you base this from?”

Makoto’s the one who takes the question “We based it of our knowledge of his character and the fact that the known evidences regarding the case does not match him at all. I think the police might have set him up.” Sae’s little sister added with a small sigh.

Her disappointment is understandable knowing Makoto’s drive to enter the force. This isn’t the first time the police have played dirty, and Sae knows that first hand. Some of that blood are on her hands, after all. “What do you mean the evidences don’t match him? And how do you get a copy of the report?”

Futaba waves at her with a smug smirk from her perch on the sofa and Sae sighs.

Of course. She should have known.

“Futaba-chan.” the chide was gentle, and out of worry, so Futaba isn’t at all offended and only shrugs, waving a careless hand at Makoto’s big sister.

“It’s okay, I’m too good for them to catch me.”

Yusuke peers down at her thoughtfully from his position, comfortably leaning against the booth “Famous last words? I think you just jinxed yourself.”

“Go jump in a lake, Inari.”

“ANYWAY—” Ann cuts in as the two glares furiously at each other “let’s ignore them and continue. So, we got the reports from Futaba. And some of the evidences just don’t match with Mishima, Sae-san! He was on the volleyball team with my best friend, Shiho, and he wasn’t even strong enough to do a spike! I refuse to believe that he—what does it say there? —_ ‘Chokes the victim at an elevation before forcefully cleaving the head in two’— _I think I speak for the others when I say _What the hell?????”_

Haru pats her on the arm before turning to Sae as well, composed yet looking just as indignant as the blonde sitting beside her “I agree with Ann-chan. I might not know Mishima-kun as well, but I know that he’s not the type capable of such violence. The boy’s heart is in the right place, and he’s been the Phantom Thieves’ strongest supporter since day 1. Right?” she asks Ren, who nods.

“The Mishima that I know wouldn’t do this. And the fact that they got these evidences leading to him, is insane.” The curly-haired boy taps his finger on the table “I can testify for him if needed, but the fact is that his family really needs legal help before we can go that far.”

Ah.

“And that’s where we need _your_ help, Onee-chan.” Makoto might not realize it, but she’s totally giving Sae the puppy dog eyes look now. It’s probably unconscious, Sae thinks as she listens to her sister with a small smile tugging on her lips. “I know that you’re don’t work criminal cases anymore but we all know that the police and the prosecutors can be very corrupt, especially when they’re desperate enough to frame someone like this. Would it be possible for you to help him at all?”

Seeing the hopeful faces of the kids almost crumbles Sae’s professionalism, but she holds firm “You know that it’s not that easy. My practice does not do Pro Bono work for criminal cases—”

“Not Pro Bono,” Ren cuts in. “We’d like it if you would defend him in court.”

“You’re the only one we trust, Sae-san!” Ann adds, and Ryuji nods behind her, adding “Probably the only adult that we trust to fight ‘em properly. No offense, Master.” He sends Sojiro a slightly guilty look to which the man shrugs off easily.

“None taken,” the owner of the coffee shop says as he wipes his cup meticulously “I’m retired and I’ll leave that to you youngins.”

Sae pinches the bridge of her nose “The decision still depends on them. I can reach out, but with my rates…” it might be taken the wrong way when one of the most highly sought-after and _expensive_ Attorney in Tokyo suddenly reaches out regarding a very specific high-profile case. The term glory-hunting comes to mind.

“We’ll do the referral for you,” Makoto speaks out, taking out a small memo from her pocket that has a very rough plan written on it “Mishima’s parents will be looking for lawyers right about now, and unless they can find one in three days they will get referred to Public Attorneys. We’d rather that not happen so if we get the OK from you, we can start contacting them and give them your business card.”

“You don’t trust the Public Attorneys?” Sae asks, just for confirmation, and immediately gets it when almost everyone shakes their head.

“They’re probably in the police’s pockets.” Futaba mutters loudly enough for the room to hear.

The eldest Niijima sighs. These kids are very stubborn about this “Why do you go so far for just a friend?” she asks, this kid isn’t even part of the group so she wonders why they would jump through hoops for him. She’s never heard of the kid too even though Makoto says he’s a friend.

Ren looks her in the eyes when he answers “Because without him, we wouldn’t have been able to beat Yaldabaoth. Without him, we would be stuck in a false world right now. We would still be living in that nightmare of a world.” Mishima was responsible for the last push against that false god. They wouldn’t be here without it. He, and everyone else, owes Mishima this much at least.

And that, as everyone says, was that.

_______________

** _ Summer 2018, 7 days ago _ **

The kids have argued a good case, and as much as Sae dreads tackling what feels is going to be a behemoth of a trial she couldn’t deny her need to see this injustice corrected. She’s also curious why a high-profile case like this is linked to a boy who’s been practically invisible to the system his entire life up in particular. He never steps out of line, no fines or warning in his name from the files Futaba _procures_ for her perusing. The goody-two-shoes type who probably balks at the mention of breaking the law.

This cannot be just a simple set up, it’s too convenient. This move is perfectly doctored—by whom, is the big question.

Sae left the coffee shop that day alongside of Makoto armed with notes of things for her to research on in preparation for the case. There is no guarantee that Mishima’s parents will follow up the kids’ referral of her, but just in case, it wouldn’t hurt to brush up her knowledge of the case.

Which is infuriating when Sae finds out that other than the report Futaba procures from the police’s system, there is literally little details known about the murder that’s linked to Mishima-kun. Most of her channels leads to roadblock which means that it’s highly classified, which usually only happens to criminal cases involving serial killers or those related to important figures. Why would a boy barely out of his adolescence garner this much protection, and attention, over his case? Something just doesn’t add up.

Though she keeps it on the down low at the office, Sae’s interest in the case is not lost on the paralegal assigned to her, Ieji Megumi, who even though she works in the capacity of being Sae’s second is actually her senior when going by the years of working at their practice. Sae is caught red handed when, instead of preparing for a case that she’s been eyeing for months, she’s researching news that’s related to Mishima-kun’s case.

Megumi’s brows shot up in surprise when she comes in Sae’s office to see the younger woman printing news articles about the arrested suspect of the Tokyo Freak Murder case.

“So…maybe I missed the memo, but are we set on changing the case?” Sae looks up at her older colleague, printer working furiously between the two women as it spits out paper after paper. “I thought you had your eyes on that tax avoidance case with the Dutch diplomat?”

Sae runs a hand through her hair and heaves out a sigh “I did, but something came up.” She watches as Megumi picks up an article hot off of a printer and recognize the familiar show written on her face.

“The Freak serial murder case?”

The younger one nods “Something about it doesn’t sit right with me.”

Megumi’s face softens and she smiles at Sae “You can never stop being a prosecutor, can you?” Even though the brilliant former Prosecutor Niijima Sae have changed profession, Sae at her very core will forever stay as that person who fights against injustice. Even though she’s left the life of a criminal prosecutor behind, Megumi notices that her passion for it still linger. While she shines as a Defense Attorney, normal cases like tax evasion doesn’t quite light her fire like prosecuting criminal suspects will ever do. It’s about time that she finally cracks and strays towards the more…challenging cases.

A small laugh is her reply and Sae shakes her head modestly “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Megumi shoots her a smile before grabbing the rest of the prints and makes herself comfortable on one of the two armchairs in the room “Don’t go modest on me, Sae-san, we all know you are once a star prosecutor feared by many in the force! Now, walk me through this. The perpetrator is a kid, right? Did you reach out to his family?”

“I’m waiting for them to contact me, actually.” Makoto’s group have let her know that they’ve made contact with the Mishimas about two days ago. The kids work fast.

“Wow, you work fast.”

“Early bird gets the worm, right?”

“Exactly!” Megumi playfully snaps her finger at her friend “So, the kid? It really is a kid, right? I noticed they don’t print out his name…how on earth did you track his family down?”

Sae has a feeling that she might lose her job if she doesn’t watch her words “I have an old friend at the force who owes me one. And yes, the suspect is an underaged boy. Which, I think, is suspicious if you related him to the murder scene.”

The paralegal nods in understanding at Sae’s sneaky ways, as it’s not uncommon to pull personal favors in their line of work “Did you get photos —oh, thanks— _wow_, that’s messy. How can anyone _do_ that? It’s not possible, is it? My husband likes to watch UFC and even in their violence they don’t usually get this…messy.”

“Usually, no. But there are extreme cases where adrenaline comes into play, or some other similar drugs that gives your strength a boost like steroid. Still, they’re usually not this messy. This is unprofessional work.”

Megumi frowns at her in confusion “The kid is shooting up steroid?”

Sae shakes her head “Not at all. He’s rather underweight for his age. And the drug test came back clean.”

“Damn.”

Even in a glance, an experienced investigator would know that there’s something strange with the report the MPD filed during the kid’s arrest. There are too many missing variables to point him as the main suspects of not just one, but _all_, of the freak murders—and yet, that’s what the MPD did. Like what they did with Ren, they did not release his personal information to the public, yet with the circus show that they made out of his arrest just a few weeks ago, they might as well announce to the world who the suspected perpetrator is.

Futaba have informed her that hackers on several internet chat boards have released Mishima’s information to the public, and she’s been taking them down as fast as she could to minimize the chance of people terrorizing the Mishima household. It’s dangerous, how fast information travels these days, and when given to the wrong hands? They could lead to utter chaos. The Phantom Thieves really lucked out when Futaba joined their cause. Sae and Ren in particular might not have come out of the November event safely without Futaba’s guidance

“This case sounds very bizarre,” Megumi says a while later after she’d gone through everything Sae gotten from the internet (and Futaba) “I’ve never seen such badly written reports before. It’s like they’re throwing paint at a waterproof wall and see what sticks. _‘Subject is aggressive and nervous’ _uh well, duh, that’s what you get for arresting a kid on dubious charges.”

The younger Attorney heaves out a sigh at her friend’s admittance. If someone else notices that something is off about Mishima’s arrest, then there might be a chance for them to make it a strong case.

“We still need evidences, however.” Sae nods at the bottom of the report Megumi has on her hands “Check the name of the Prosecutor.”

The friendly-faced Megumi lets out an unladylike curse at the familiar script “Kawada Shinnosuke? Wow, they’re not pulling any punches, are they?” Kawada Shinnosuke is a senior Prosecutor who’s usually unleashed only for the biggest, most complicated and high-profile cases. The man is unpleasant, to say the least, and though Sae only spent a year working alongside of the man, it’s clear to everyone that the two dislike each other. The fact that they have Kawada handling Mishima’s case means that it’s going to be pain for whoever is representing the boy.

“They’re desperate.” Sae explains shortly. She knows out of experience that people with a lot to hide would be willing to use anything they have in their arsenal to bury evidences that would incriminate them. Mishima is one of those.

Megumi shakes her head in disgusts “And this is why us Attorneys rarely gets along with them Prosecutors. Except for you, of course.” She adds cheekily at Sae who rolls her eyes good naturedly. “Anyway, if you’re going after this case, then I’m going too. I’ve always wanted to wipe that smug smirk off of that old man’s face.”

“Of course, I would think twice about taking this case without your help.”

The Paralegal grins at the subtle praise “Flatterer. Oh, about the evidences, I just remember. They actually made a new sub-division just for this case, right? Do you remember The Police Commissioner raging in the news sometimes last year?”

Vaguely, because Sae’s still rather bitter about how corrupt her old workplace was, but she knows what Megumi is referring to “Yes, they call it…_Special_ Homicide, if I’m not mistaken. Rather redundant, if you ask me.” They should have gotten a better name, but even that will spark rivalry between the two divisions. Workplace politics, as usual.

“Oh, I definitely agree. Anyway, that new division is very _hush hush _as you know, so if you need a boost to jump over the bureaucracy tapes let me know, OK?” Megumi immediately pats down the pockets of her suit with a frown on her face “The Inspector in charge is actually our former neighbor, you see, so I actually have an in with him. His kids love my nikujaga so the family used to drop by often for dinner. I don’t think he would mind if I share his number with you. Oooh, where is it, I swear I have my card holder with me…”

Sae’s office landline ringing pierced the air between them and puts a halt onto the two women’s conversation. Sae immediately reaches for it, and her eyes widens when the assistant told her of a coming call that she’s been waiting for.

“I have to take this,” she immediately says to Megumi who nods and stands up without a fanfare “I’ll talk to you later, Ieji-san.”

“Me-gu-mi,” the older woman singsongs as she starts towards the door “Let me know if you want that boost, Sae-san! Good luck!”

Megumi leaves her office with a friendly wave and Sae presses a button on the phone to let the call through. “Attorney at Law Niijima Sae speaking.”

_“Niijima-sensei? This is Mishima Aoki…”_

_______________

** _ Summer 2018, 5 days ago _ **

Sae ended up taking that boost from Megumi after all.

The truth is, regardless of her feelings towards her old work place, Sae still has some leverage in the MPD, several owed favors that she hasn’t cashed in. Even so, those favors with people of different positions in the force seems to have met resistance against the wall of secrecy that is the Special Homicide department. She’s gone through most of her trusted channels, but they seem just as confused as her with how the bureaucracy works when it comes to the Special Homicide department.

After almost a day stuck on the phone that leads nowhere but in a confused circle, Sae calls for her friend’s help. With Megumi’s help Sae is immediately able to snag a scheduled meeting with the Inspector in charge of the enigmatic department. The set meeting time is rather awkward, stuck between the lunch hours and a meeting that Sae has with her boss, but that’s the best the Inspector’s assistant could do. Sae wasn’t able to talk to the Inspector himself, but his assistant has been very helpful so Sae had no complaints.

And so, here she was, an hour into her meeting with the Inspector of the Special Homicide Division.

The abnormality of the bureaucracy relating to the new division begins from the mouth of the precinct. The person on the front desk has a strange look on her face when she tells her of her appointment.

“I-Inspector Kuroyanagi?” The receptionist’s eyes are wide and Sae frowns.

“Yes. Inspector Kuroyanagi. Of the Special Homicide division.” The attorney has repeated herself twice and she gets this wide-eyed deer-in-the-headlights look with every repeat and she’s slowly losing patience. “I have a meeting with him in an hour. I’m Niijima Sae.”

The receptionist’s face turns ashen and suddenly Sae wonders if she’s way too hard on this poor receptionist who probably have been flustered from dealing with annoying visitors the entire morning.

“I—I’m sorry, I just—” the woman on the desk looks so lost “D-did you not, get the memo?”

“About what?” Perfectly manicured nail taps on the granite counter between them. “Will he be available for the appointment today?”

The receptionist hesitates, but Sae’s heard enough. She reaches out to take back her card on the counter, but is stopped by a foreign hand laying over it. The woman stiffens.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to listen your conversation but I couldn’t help myself when I hear your name,” A kind-faced man in a suit looks down with interest at Sae though he’s keeping himself at an acceptable distance from her “Niijima Sae? As in the brilliant Prosecutor Niijima Sae who lead the Purge a few years ago?”

There’s something about this man reciting her most recent accolades that doesn’t sit right with her, but Sae keeps her face schooled. “I’m an attorney now, but yes.”

“Oh, my apologies. Still Niijima-_sensei_ though, yes?” The man slides Sae’s card from the counter and looks at it with interest before turning to the receptionist, who’s staring at them with wide eyes “Asaka-san, I’ll take it from here. Will you ring the Assistant Inspector instead? I think he’s somewhere in the office today.”

“Yes, of course. My apologies, Inspector Hasebe.”

“Don’t mind, don’t mind~ Please follow me after you get your pass, Sensei.” The pass is given without much fanfare, or dramatics, and then the attorney follows the man. She’d never guessed that he’s apparently an Inspector mainly because of how boyish he looks.

And Sae’s never seen him around before.

“Inspector Hasebe?” she asks as they wait for the elevator to come.

Hasebe smiles but doesn’t look at her “Yes, I am. I don’t think we have met before.”

“No.” Sae’s memorized most of the problematic people on the force by now, as she’s led a one-woman charge against them to kick them out of the MPD on her last year as a Prosecutor. Hence, the Purge. And she’s the whistle-blower. “I don’t think I’ve heard of you before.”

The elevator dings and opens, and Hasebe turns to let her in first before stepping after her. He presses for the 5th floor before replying to the still-suspicious Sae “Oh, I wouldn’t imagine that you have. I was under the radar during most of Shido’s reign and the Purge. Moved to General Affairs, actually,” there was a bitterness in his voice as Hasebe recalls the past “practically the archiving station, all because Shido wasn’t able to sway me with his pockets.”

Sae’s opinion of the man suddenly begins to rise “I’m sorry. You did the right thing.” And his career suffered because of it. Sae’s met quite a few people during the Purge with the same backstory and guilt eats her at the inside because some of those people were the people that she’d stepped over on her way to get that promotion she’s always wanted.

Would it have been different if she had fought for integrity back then? Would it have changed things if she notices the corruption of her department early and did something about it?

Even though in retrospect, Sae knows that she has no semblance of actual powers then.

Hasebe scoffing startles Sae from the musing and she turns to the man with a light frown “Sorry, I just…I’m bewildered sometimes, that in this place, doing the right thing means getting the boot or being ostracized from the rest of your peers. I couldn’t have imagined how it was for you.”

The elevator dings at the 5th floor and the two steps outside once the door hisses open.

“It was a nightmare, I won’t lie.” Sae looks at the once-familiar hallway of the C.I. Homicide division resides. It feels so alien now. “There was a lot of pushback from the people around me, a few threats on my life and my family…but I don’t regret it.”

Hasebe glances at her, but Sae looks away, feeling too exposed in this conversation. “Would you do it again, then? If you have to?”

“With no hesitation.” The attorney smiles a little when they passed the Homicide detective bullpen, her eyes catching sight of the desk where her father used to sit a long time ago. How nostalgic. “Inaction means assent and I’ve done that for the longest time. No more.”

Innocent, courageous lives have been lost because of Shido’s rise to power. The many people he, and Akechi by proxy, have silenced were numerous along the years. All Sae could do was to clean house so that history won’t repeat itself.

It is quiet between them after Sae’s declaration, and the attorney is left to ponder how someone who’s been moved to General Affairs was promoted into an Inspector in just a few years. Maybe things in the MPD have changed? Sae hasn’t really been keeping a close tab on the place ever since she left the Prosecutor’s office, so she feels lost sometimes. There was a big overhaul in the system just last year, but nothing was leaked out of the precinct so the media never caught wind of it.

They’ve reached somewhere at the end of the corridor of the 5th floor where it’s all private office spaces now. Sae finds herself recognizing a few names on the plaques placed on the doors; most of them are new. She quickly looks over when the Inspector breaks the silence between them.

“You’re very brave.” the admiration in his voice is clear and Sae doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. She’s grown used to the vitriol and passive-aggressiveness tossed at her from cops in the past few years. “I think Detective Niijima would be very proud of you.”

Sae lets out a very sharp intake of breath and she freezes in her step, eyes wide and staring at the back of the man who just casually throws around her father’s name.

“…What?”

The look on Hasebe’s face is kind when he turns around to address her properly “I was in the General Affairs, remember? I’ve read all of his reports and case files from his time working here. The people in GA have fond stories of Detective Niijima and loves telling them to the point that I feel like I know him personally myself. I’m sorry if I bring up painful memories.”

The attorney is flabbergasted with everything that she hears. A cop? With a good opinion about her father?

“N-no,” she curses at herself internally when it takes a while to gain back her composure “No, it’s fine. I just—I never would have expected that anyone remembers my father.” Let alone_ fondly._

“Yes, well…the good ones are always silenced, in this kind of place. As you know very well.”

Suddenly Sae feels like he’s not talking about her father anymore.

Hasebe smiles again at her hesitance to reply before bowing his head “Again, my apologies if I cross any line. My curiosity took the better of me when I heard your name by the reception, and I’ve impudently slotted myself into your schedule in your busy day.” The man straightens up and knocks his knuckles lightly against the door on his left, one with certain plaque on it.

_Assistant-Inspector Irie Natsuki_

** _Special Homicide_ **

“This is Inspector Kuroyanagi’s Assistant-Inspector for the case,” Hasebe explains to her “With the Inspector being unavailable, Irie is the next best person to go to regarding your appointment. He’s a bit of…an eccentric, so to say, so I’d like to apologize in advance for him just in case. His office is unlocked, so you can wait for him inside.” Inspector Hasebe gives another bow of his head “I will leave you to it then, Niijima-sensei. Thank you for indulging my curiosity.”

The man starts towards the elevator station once more, but Sae calls out to him.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Sae immediately says to the Inspector “You said you’re Hasebe? Of General Affairs?”

At this Hasebe’s eyes twinkle and a wide smile stretched out on his face “Oh no, I was in GA until last year. I’m in IA now. Inspector Hasebe Tomohisa of the Internal Affairs department. Pardon my late introduction.”

Internal Affairs? The man here is part of what probably is the most hated, _and feared_, department in every police precinct? His kind face betrays his position, and Sae shudders to think of how much power he holds over the place. If IA wants to investigate you, they will turn every rock to get every sordid detail on your records. The fact that Shido managed to bag most of the precinct during his reign is mainly because IA was in his pocket.

This meeting is probably a calculated move on Hasebe’s part, Sae bets. Shit, she’s made a blunder. “I see. Thank you for guiding me, Inspector. I appreciate it.”

“Not at all. Have a good day, Sensei.”

And the man leaves just as fast as he’d appear. Sae’s left there fuming at herself, the lack of information on her part has led onto a blunder while in the enemy’s territory. It’s sad that she still thinks of the precinct as the enemy territory even to this day, but you can never trust anyone in this place.

There truly are too many rats in this hell hole.


End file.
